


You Outshine the Morning Sun

by RedBerrie



Series: The Hamil-ABO 'Verse [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: A/B/O Style, Alpha!TJeffs, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Birth, Description of Omega Reproductive Anatomy, M/M, Mpreg, Omega!Alexander, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Time to Learn About the Birds and the Bees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-11 06:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10457934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedBerrie/pseuds/RedBerrie
Summary: There were many people that said that they loved being pregnant. That it felt like a magical and spiritual experience, nurturing a life inside of them. Quite frankly, Alex had no idea what they were talking about.Now that Alex is back home, safe and sound, the real adventure begins -- motherhood.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a sequel to "[Make the World Safe and Sound For You ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10001633/)". You **DO** need to have read that fic before reading this one, at least to understand everything that's going on.
> 
> In our world, words like 'mother' and 'father' are intrinsically linked to sex, as only those who are anatomically female can become pregnant and only those who are anatomically male can impregnate. In a world where all omegas -- in other words, a full 50% of the population -- are functioning hermaphrodites, that changes. In this fic, the word 'mother' will refer to the parent who gestates the baby, and the word 'father' refers to the parent who impregnates, regardless of their respective sex or gender. There is a tendency to think of motherhood as somewhat feminine and fatherhood as somewhat masculine, but gender politics are another story.

It had been days since Senator Thomas Jefferson's mate, Alexander Hamilton – now Alexander Jefferson – had been outside the house. He was between his various doctors' appointments, and Thomas' staff took care of the shopping and the upkeep of the household.

Returning to the Treasury Building had been difficult for the former Secretary of the Treasury – it had been on those very steps that he had seen the decoy car, after all, and on that very street that he had made that horrific mistake. His former staff and interns had enjoyed a few blissful days Hamilton-free until Alex seemed to have suddenly remembered that the security detail that would probably hound him for the rest of his life was good for more than just annoying him, and that staff and those interns was shocked to see him breeze back into his office like the past two weeks hadn't happened.

And at first, it seemed good. The transition between Treasury Secretaries had been choppy, but with Alex's physical presence it was going much smoother and faster. Then, Alex's need to do  _something_ to drive back the demons in his head coupled with his natural inability to relax for any length of time had led to him micromanaging everyone and everything involved in the change-over.  _That_ had led to a delegation of disgruntled Treasury employees going over Alex's head, which had led to the President of the United States himself issuing a ban that Alex was no longer allowed to step foot in the Treasury Building.

A few misunderstandings in security and a particularly memorable entrance through a window some intern had stupidly left unlocked later, and the omega found himself forced to comply with the executive order. Even if that order had sent him on an hours-long rant about how it was stupid, and how it was counter-productive, and how may times the word “son” had been used.

All this meant that Alex had spent the past week or so binging on Netflix while desperately hoping for the phone to ring.

Thomas stayed home with his mate when he could, encouraging Alex to binge-watch something other than documentaries, making sure he ate something more substantial than “take-out” or “Papa John's” or – Alex's personal favorite – “nothing”, and fucking Alex into the mattress hard enough to make him appeal to various deities in a variety of languages as loudly as possible.

But Thomas had his own office, and his own problems, and his own  _work_ . And juggling work with the needs of his mate wasn't always easy. Thomas knew that Alex too often got the short end of the stick when it came to his time.

So Thomas made sure that he was always available to go with him to his therapist three times a week. And today Alex seemed actually  _glad_ to trade his sweats for jeans and slip on his favorite unicorn tee to go to his appointment. At least, he had been.

Now? Now he was laying on the bed, feet dangling over the side, making adorable little distressed huffs while he tried to get his jeans to button.

“Did they shrink in the dryer or something?” Alex eventually spat out, irritated.

“I doubt it,” Thomas assured him. “Alejandra knows not to put denim in an over-hot dryer.”

“Well, these jeans fit last week!” Alex bit back. “And they're okay on the legs. I just can't … get them to … button!”

The significance of that statement suddenly hit Thomas full-force. He looked into Alex's eyes to see that he, too, understood what it meant.

“Stay there,” Thomas commanded as he made a run for the home office right across the hallway from their bedroom. He knew that Alex wouldn't obey for long, not in this mood, so he gathered what needed quickly before heading back to the bedroom, to find Alex mercifully in the same position.

Thomas immediately went to his mate and fell to his knees in between Alex's legs. He peeled open the flaps of the offending jeans and pulled the hem of Alex's boxer briefs down just far enough to expose his entire abdomen. The skin of the pregnant omega's belly was smooth and tight, hairless – as was his face and most of his body – due to the decreased testosterone in his system, and smelled faintly of the coconut body wash he used. Thomas brought his mouth to the skin just below his navel, laying kiss after tender kiss over the entire rounding bump of Alex's stomach.

“I'm going to get so fat,” Alex groused, although the smile he was fighting didn't escape Thomas' attention.

“You're going to get so fat,” Thomas agreed, eyes shining up at Alex at the image of his mate rounded with child.

His kisses began to drift farther down Alex's torso, working their way down to what the boxer briefs still covered. Alex sighed in resignation and allowed Thomas to pull the briefs down farther and expose him, acting as if the allowance was some great favor to Thomas. The ruse would have worked but for the way the now-unclothed dick was beginning to harden, and the smell of omegan arousal that was beginning to seep from his pores.

Thomas wasted no time, and licked away the precome that had started to appear. Alex sighed in bliss as Thomas suddenly took the entire dick in his mouth, flicking his tongue along the frenulum in the way he knew had his mate gasping in pleasure. Then moaned, as Thomas removed his dick from his mouth to kiss and lick at his balls. Thomas laved at first one, then the other, then the sensitive skin behind them. Alex just about came off the bed at that, so Thomas took the dick back into his mouth and hummed, letting the vibrations from his throat caress Alex, while his fingers caressed the dimple behind his balls.

As if that dimple was a button, Alex was instantly coming down his throat. Thomas used his hand to stroke Alex through his orgasm, making sure that his mate finished, before licking away any come that he had missed.

Alex was still panting as Thomas rolled the boxer briefs back into place. Thomas then pulled from his pocket what he had gotten from his office – a paperclip and a rubber band – and knotted the rubber band around the paper clip to secure them together. He placed the paper clip in front of the button hole of the jeans, pulled the rubber band through the hole, and looped the rubber band around the button. The whole thing added about two inches to the waist of the jeans, and Alex's tee was long enough that, barring a freak gust of wind, no one would ever be the wiser.

Thomas laid one last kiss on the skin right below his mate's navel before pulling Alex's shirt back down. “Let's go to your appointment, then we'll stop at the maternity store, get you some mommy jeans?”

Still too blissed out to protest, Alex nodded his agreement.

* * *

There were many people that said that they loved being pregnant. That it felt like a magical and spiritual experience, nurturing a life inside of them. Quite frankly, Alex had no idea what they were talking about.

Of course, his experience so far had been rather atypical of the norm. While it would have been nice to have the television reveal – becoming more and more suspicious that something was going on, popping down to the drugstore to get a pregnancy test, then coming up with some creative way to tell Thomas that ended in both of them hugging and kissing and crying – that wasn't how it happened. So perhaps finding out he was pregnant whilst being held for ransom by kidnappers who gradually became more and more determined to keep him and the baby even after Thomas had obeyed their demands had put a damper of the entire experience. Or maybe it was the bloating, gas, heartburn, and fatigue, on top of the stress from the change in his routine and career, on top of what his therapist had called a stubborn refusal to accept the reality of his PTSD and depression that was nothing sort of impressive, that had him wishing at times that the pregnancy had never happened.

Either way, he was expecting the reality of shopping for maternity clothes to be just one more item to add to the list of things that really blew about being pregnant. And he had never been so happy to be wrong.

He had expected the store to be obnoxious, overly feminine and full of mothers-to-be desperate to prove themselves more excited about their status than the others. Instead, Bump In The Road was delightfully modern, in shades of teal and lime green accenting the crisp white walls and natural wooden floors. Vases of bamboo stalks around the store and the matching wood checkout counter with the orchid beside the register made the whole thing look more like the lobby of a day spa than a maternity store. Instead of intrusive and fawning, the sales clerks were helpful and insightful. And not once did anyone try and put their hand on his stomach – an intrusion he was only now completely comfortable with allowing Thomas, much less some stranger.

The clothes were fashionable and modern while still being comfortable and accommodating to his changing body. Stretchy materials and loose cuts were popular, of course, but none the worse for that necessity. Someone had really put some thought into these clothes, and not a single garment clobbered him over the head with the knowledge that the wearer was expecting. They even had an extensive males section, for the pregnant male omegas such as himself.

“You can't even tell these jeans are maternity,” he said to Thomas, showing him a pair of skinny jeans that only differed from what he had in his closet now by the addition of two elastic inserts built in right where the front pockets were; and, as those inserts were dyed the same color as the denim, they were barely noticeable.

Then there came the things he didn't realize he was going to need. Books on pregnancy. Lotions and balms for itchy, stretching skin. Candles and bath soaks for relaxation and better mental health. A belly band to help support the extra weight as his stomach continued to expand. A whole host of new medicines, from pain relievers to sleep aids, that were more baby-friendly than what they had in their cabinet. Thomas showed him a tea specifically designed to aid in lactation, and suddenly this shopping trip wasn't fun anymore.

They paid for their purchases and accepted a schedule of upcoming classes from the perky clerk. Thomas seemed to sense his mood, because they walked to the car with Alex's new wardrobe and miscellaneous toiletries in silence.

They were halfway home when Alex finally spoke. “I think it's time to schedule an appointment with Dr. Hosack,” he told Thomas.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again! Like before, I aim to update daily, but that might not be possible. Also, please note that I'm neither an obstetrician nor a doctor of any sort, and have never been pregnant myself, so most of the stuff in this fic are going to be straight from Google and parenting sites. If I get anything wrong, please tell me so I can fix it!


	2. The Obstetrics Office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who like knowing what characters look like, in the musical Dr. David Hosack is played by [Sydney Harcourt](https://www.ibdb.com/cache/person/5012791442516226.jpg).

The presence of his Secret Service escort made things infinitely more complicated. Before he had had four men following him around, Thomas would have called in and booked an appointment, they both would have gone and signed in, then sat in the waiting room with any number of other expectant mothers until their name was called. Now, the doctor they chose had to be vetted, the office completely shut down, and only essential personnel present when he and Thomas fulfilled their appointment.

As they opened the door and walked in, Alex just sent a silent thanks that he hadn't gotten sick or had to reschedule for any other reason beyond his control.

Alex sat on an overstuffed loveseat while two agents took a seat on either side of the room. Thomas walked up to the window where a single receptionist sat waiting and returned with a large clipboard full of forms to fill out. He took one look at them and gave the whole thing to Alex. Alex could see why; after the standard questions asked at every doctor's office – name, sex, mated status, name of his primary care physician, name of his medical guardian and his relationship to said guardian, emergency contact, that sort of thing – the forms started getting into his medical history as well as the medical history of his family.

Most of the questions were fairly straightforward. The section right below wanted him to list the medications he took, both prescription and over the counter, as well as his preferred pharmacy, his latest immunizations and screenings, and if he had any allergies. He filled it in quickly.

The next section was almost as easy. It wanted to know if he had now or had ever had hypertension, chest pains, diabetes, asthma, thyroid disease, depression, arrythmia, or any of a host of other problems. He hesitated, fidgeted uncomfortably for a moment. Long enough for Thomas to look to see what was wrong. He sighed and checked the box beside “depression”.

Then things started to get uncomfortable, if not just as easy. The form asked the start and end dates of his last heat, if the length it had lasted was normal, if it was especially intense, that sort of thing. It asked if he was experiencing any discharge, any trouble urinating, any STDs he may have had … He breezed through it as quickly as he could, only to come to the next minefield.

It wanted to know about his mental health. If he was taking any medications for depression or anxiety. If he was seeing a psychologist or psychiatrist. If he was suicidal. If he … He couldn't do it. He left the entire space blank. Thomas frowned but said nothing as he moved on to the next section.

Family history would be so much easier if he knew anything about half of his family. As he didn't even know for a fact who his father was – wasn't sure if his mother even knew – it was a little more difficult. The form had a list of conditions that it wanted, then a list of close relatives followed by a line to write in any of the conditions that that person may have suffered from. He filled it out as best he could with his mother's side, put question marks by his father's side, then moved on.

A quick reassurance that he wasn't smoking, that he wasn't drinking, and that he wasn't taking any recreational drugs, and he passed the clipboard back to Thomas.

Thomas filled out another list of his own family medical history, then looked over the rest of the form. To Alex's horror, the Alpha insisted on going back to the Mental Health section, and filling it in for him. “They need to know,” he muttered to Alex, low enough that no one else could have heard, and Alex hated the fact that he was right. Thomas then signed the form, stating that as Alex's medical guardian everything in the form was true and factual to the best of his knowledge, then took the clipboard back up to the receptionist.

He had barely given the clipboard back before the door to the back rooms opened. “Senator Jefferson?” a nurse called, as if the waiting room was full of patients instead of completely empty. Alex joined his mate and together they followed the nurse to an exam room.

What followed was also standard doctor's visit fare – his height and weight were measured (with a tutting noise from the nurse and a significant look from Thomas) and his blood pressure and temperature were taken. The nurse went over some of the questions on the form he had filled out, tutting again when he explained why none of the medical history on his father's side of the family was filled in. She also asked him if he knew about any chromosomal or genetic disorders, then asked the same questions of Thomas. After that, she took a blood sample, bid both men adieu, and was gone.

Then it was time to sit on the exam table, paper making an awkward crinkle every time he shifted, waiting for the doctor.

Just like the nurse, Dr. Hosack wasn't long in showing. “Good morning, Alexander,” he greeted the omega, and Alex studied him carefully.

Dr. Hosack was an Alpha, there was no getting around that. There was a reason that most doctors were betas, and Alex felt that reason now, as his instincts were insisting not to trust the strange Alpha, not to take chances with the baby, to jump down from the table and let Thomas protect him, let Thomas take him in his arms and drive the strange Alpha away. He could see out of the corner of his eyes that Thomas was struggling with his own set of instincts. A wave of his scent, of possessive Alpha smell, suddenly filled the room as Thomas pressed his scent glands.

This was a mistake. He shouldn't have listened to Jim, shouldn't have booked an appointment with an Alpha. He opened his mouth to say that, to thank the doctor for his time but that this wasn't going to work, when suddenly the Alpha was there, the Alpha was leaning over him, and he got a noseful of the strange Alpha's scent.

* * *

This was a mistake. He should never have trusted his omega to the care of a strange Alpha. Thomas watched the doctor lean over Alex, watched Alex shrink away and whimper in fear, and had to restrain himself from jumping from his seat to beat back the strange Alpha threatening his mate.

Then the Alpha scented with Alex, and Alex … relaxed. Like a switch had been flipped, his mate was suddenly calm again.

“And good morning to you, too, Daddy,” the doctor said, grinning at Thomas, and holding his hand out to scent with him. Hesitantly, Thomas took the hand and leaned in, and suddenly understood what had calmed Alex. Underneath the strong Alpha scent, the man smelled like … well, like home. He smelled like clean linens and a pie baking in the oven and fat, happy omegas. Even his Alpha scent was received by Thomas' Alpha as more of a strong potential ally than a strong rival.

“It's nice to meet you, Dr. Hosack,” Alex piped up from his position on the table.

“Oh, please,” the man said, grinning. Thomas suddenly realized that the Alpha hadn't stopped grinning since he came into the room. “We're going to be seeing far too much of each other for _that_ nonsense. Call me Dave.”

“Dave,” Thomas parroted, getting his mental feet back under him. “Thanks for accommodating our rather … _unique_ circumstances.”

“Don't worry about it,” the other Alpha assured him, waving the concern away. “Honestly, this close to the Hill, this isn't the first time we've had someone come visit us with Secret Service agents in tow!” He looked down at the clipboard in his hands. “By the way – congratulations, Alexander, you're definitely pregnant.”

He looked down at the clipboard again, and asked for clarification on a few points on the forms they had filled out. However, he asked that clarification from Alex, not Thomas; and Thomas remembered that he had greeted Alex first. Putting the omega at ease, and honoring his position as mother-to-be. Thomas relaxed a little more.

After the paperwork was done, he wheeled over a machine. “This, you may recognize, is an ultrasound machine,” he said, as he draped a cloth over Alex's lap. “Don't worry; it's completely painless. We're just gonna take a little peek inside your belly, Alex, and see what's going on with junior, okay?”

Alex eyed the machine warily, but didn't seem to have any objections to the procedure. No objections, at least, until the doctor pulled his shirt up. “This is called a nuchal translucency scan, or an NT scan. We'll be looking at the baby, making sure everything's where it should be, and also checking the odds of a deformity such as Down's syndrome. If we're lucky, we may even be able to see the sex of the baby.” He began to smear some sort of gel over Alex's stomach. “Cold, cold, I know!” he joked.

Alex was getting alarmingly pale.

“Now, let's take a … oh, lookit that! There's your baby!” Thomas looked up at the screen, to see a black-and-white, grainy image of what looked vaguely like a baby. A baby. _His_ baby. This was the first image he'd ever see of his child. The image moved as the baby shifted and as Dave slowly ran the wand over Alex's stomach, then would suddenly freeze for a moment – Dave taking a screenshot. “Definitely around 13 weeks. That's about when you had your last heat, right, Alex?” Thomas continued to watch, transfixed, as the image zoomed in to show the baby's head and neck, freezing as Dave took another screenshot. “Now we're just gonna take some- woah!”

The image suddenly went wild, then went blank, as Alex sat up suddenly. “I can't! I … I can't!” the omega cried, as he jumped from the bed and ran for the door. Or tried to, at least; he misjudged the landing and went down.

Thomas was on him in a moment. “It's okay,” he pulled Alex into his lap and tried to soothe the suddenly hyperventilating omega. “Shh, shh, it's okay.” Gradually, Alex calmed down, enough that his ragged breathing evened out to simple crying.

Thomas could have kicked himself. Of course Alex would have a problem with a stranger, even one with such a calming personal scent, touching his stomach. He should have seen this coming! He should have-

Dave suddenly reappeared with a bottle of water. Alex took the bottle from him and chugged almost a third of it in one go. After he was finished, he seemed significantly calmer than before.

“We're done for the day,” Dave reassured them. “I wanted to do a pelvic exam, but we can wait and do that in a week or so. I've got everything I need from the ultrasound, though, so we're good to go there. We'll talk about the results from the ultrasound when you come back in.”

“That sounds good,” Thomas replied, still cradling Alex in his lap.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Alex said, voice only slightly unsteady.

“In the meantime, would you like to know the sex of your baby?”

Thomas frowned. “I thought you couldn't tell this early?” he stated.

“Sometimes you can, sometimes you can't,” Dave admitted. “This time, we were lucky. I won't bore you on details, although I'd be more than happy to show you when you come back in. Which reminds me, we need to print you two off copies of your ultrasound! Something fun to post on Facebook, yeah?”

Alex just nodded, so Thomas spoke for him. “That would be great,” he responded. “Yes, please.”

“Great, great, we'll get those for you two. Now, would you like to know what you'll be having?”

Again, Alex nodded, and Thomas spoke for him; although this time, he could feel the tightness of anticipation building in his chest. “Please,” he said.

Dave grinned at them both. “Congratulations,” he said. “You're having a baby boy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think of the reveal? Excited for a little baby boy Jefferson? What do you think they'll name him?
> 
> Please note that his name will not be Philip. I realize that a lot of people are expecting that this little boy will be Philip, and are probably expecting me to follow existing Hamilton child names, but that makes absolutely no sense to me. Philip was named after Alexander's father-in-law, Eliza's father, General Philip Schuyler. Which made sense, when the mother was Philip Schuyler's daughter, especially given all that Schuyler had done for Alexander. It doesn't make sense, however, when Alex himself is the mother and Thomas is the father. Nor does it make sense to have a baby Angelica, or a baby Elizabeth, or a baby John Church, etc. Those were the children he had with Eliza. They also won't be named after Jefferson's kids -- no Lucys or Marthas, as those were the kids he had with Martha Randolph. Some baby names in this fic may coincide with the names of either man's real life children, but it will be either coincidence or naming the baby after a person on that parent's family tree (for example, naming a child James).
> 
> Again, all of this info about what goes down in a prenatal doctor's visit was collected from various parenting websites. If I got anything wrong, please tell me, so I can fix it!


	3. The Meltdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up working late today, and didn't have anything written yet. So you get a short chapter. Sorry! :(
> 
> **Warning: Alex has a breakdown in this chapter, due to the events of last chapter!** It's nothing too extreme, and Thomas is able to talk him out of it; but he does use very self-deprecating language. If you're triggered by that sort of thing, you may want to skip this chapter. Nothing of importance happens.

They walked back to the car in silence, bodyguards trailing behind. The car was new – it had to be. Even if Alex hadn't had a panic attack the first time he'd seen the old Mercedes, the addition of his protection detail meant that they needed more than just four seats. The resulting upgrade – still a Mercedes, still black – was a three-row car capable of seating six very, very comfortably. Alex had snorted and called it a limo, the first time he saw it; Thomas didn't have the heart to tell him that he was technically incorrect, that in a limo the middle row was facing back, and in their car it was facing forward, with the privacy screen between the second and third row instead of the first and second, as in a limo. He also didn't have the heart to tell him that it was custom-made, bullet-proof, and gas-proof, with tires that could be shot out and still be driven flat for up to eighteen miles.

Alex's guards had insisted on replacing Samuel with one of their own, pointing out that in the event of an attack they would need a driver capable of tactical driving. Alex had put his own foot down, and insisted that Samuel had been his driver for two years and that that wasn't going to change. Thomas had backed him up, as Samuel had been _his_ driver for _generations_. Eventually, they had compromised by sending Samuel to an advanced tactical driving course, which he passed easily. In the end, the bodyguards had come to respect and even admire Samuel for his devotion to the Jefferson family as well as his skills, but that had taken time. Thomas remembered how Alex had laughed, watching such hulking large men wearing expressions that could only be called “sulking” after they had lost that argument.

Thomas wished that Alex was laughing now.

He saw the breakdown coming, of course. The moment they were in the car, before even buckling his seat belt, he was putting up the divider.

He wasn't fast enough. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” Alex all but threw himself into Thomas' arms. “I'm so sorry!”

Thomas waited until the divider was up, and the double-person seat belt was buckled around both himself and his mate, before answering. “What are you sorry for, Darlin'?” he asked, knowing the answer.

“I'm so weak,” Alex was sobbing by now. “I'm so worthless! I can't even get through an ultrasound without completely falling apart!”

It was exactly what Thomas expected, and yet he felt his heart shatter at the confirmation. “That doesn't make you weak, Alex,” he assured the omega, running his fingers through the other's hair, trying to calm him. “You've been through a lot of trauma. Remember what your therapist says?”

“It wasn't even that much trauma!” Alex wasn't finished. “They didn't do anything to me! Anything! Just gave me a bed, clothes to wear, food to eat – I even had a TV!”

“It's not about- wait, a TV? Really?”

Alex nodded miserably. “And it wasn't even, like, a communal TV that I could watch; it was all mine! I had the remote and everything!”

That was … not what Thomas was expecting. “Why the hell would- you know what? Never mind.”  _Not helping,_ he reminded himself. “Alex, Darling, please! Suffering isn't a competition; you know that!”

“It wasn't even suffering! That's what I'm saying! I never suffered, not really; and here I am, completely breaking down the moment my _doctor_ touches my _pregnant_ belly!”

“Yes, yes it was suffering,” Thomas insisted. “Listen to me, now.” The Alpha pressed his scent glands, trying to calm his mate; he wasn't above playing a little dirty. “Yes, you weren't hurt while you were held for ransom; and, yes, somewhere out there is a person who was held for ransom and raped by their captors.” He knew, no matter what Alex said, that the omega had been in danger of that fate. “Then there's also someone out there who was held for ransom, and raped, _and_ had their fingers cut off. There's also someone out there who was held for ransom, and raped, and had their _whole hand_ cut off. Then there's someone who was held for ransom, raped, and had … had _both hands_ cut off.” He stroked his mate's face, tender, trying to calm him through the contact. “There's always going to be someone out there who's had it worse, Baby. Always. It doesn't invalidate what _you've_ gone through. And this? This right here, this PTSD? It means that you _suffered_ , Darling; you _suffered.”_

Alex's sobs had calmed down to sniffles, at least. “I guess you have a point,” he allowed.

Thomas forced himself to bark out a laugh. “You guess?” he smirked. “C'mon, Baby; I have a point and you know it.”

Alex's responding laugh was strained, but was still a laugh. “You're such an asshole, you know that?” he said, wiping at his eyes. The motion was oddly endearing.

“I believe you mispronounced 'handsome', Princess.”

“I believe the word I mispronounced can't be said in polite company.” It was a weak comeback, but a comeback nonetheless.

“Well, do you want to know what I believe? _I_ believe that I'm hungry. Wanna ditch this joint and go get some tacos?”

“I'm more of a sausage man, myself,” Alex replied, waggling his eyebrows awkwardly at Thomas. The motion was disjointed and graceless, but Thomas was more than willing to pretend that he didn't notice.

“ _Oh my God,_ you are _so_ ridiculous!” Thomas threw his hands up, feigning aggravation, and Alex laughed again. This one sounded a bit more natural. “Do you want Taco Bell, or not?”

Alex paused, seemingly considering the question. “I could definitely do with some greasy comfort food right now,” he decided.

“One afternoon in the bathroom, coming right up!” Thomas responded, already texting Samuel with the new destination. “After that, if you're still hungry, you can eat my sausage if you want.”

Now it was Thomas' turn to waggle his eyebrows at Alex, and Alex's turn to act annoyed by the crude come-on.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst then fluff -- the perfect chapter combination, even if it was a bit short. Next one will be longer, promise!


	4. The Anatomy Lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Thomas go in for the second half of Alex's first prenatal visit. 
> 
> Warning: explanation of some reproductive anatomy in this chapter!

The follow-up appointment with Dr. Hosack – they were calling it a follow-up – was scheduled for the end of that week. Alex insisted that he was fine, and that he didn't want to wait an entire week; so they shut the whole practice down again four days later.

This time, the nurse led them to an exam room that was conspicuously missing an ultrasound machine. Neither man said anything, although Alex knew that Thomas had noticed him looking at the corner where it had been before.

“Hello Alexander, Thomas,” Dave greeted them as he entered the room. “I hope you've been having a good week?” They made small talk while Dave booted up his laptop and pulled Alex's records up.

“We've gotten all the results back from the NT scan, and I'm pleased to tell you that everything's looking good.” He turned the laptop so that both parents could see a still image of the ultrasound. Dave then launched into a detailed explanation of the baby's measurements, the position in the uterus, the circumference of his head, even the thickness of some area on the back of his neck. Most of it went over Alex's head, except for the important part: everything was normal. He was fine.

_He_ . Somehow, in the excitement of the past few days, that part had yet to sink in. The baby wasn't just some alien growth pushing out his stomach and making his system go haywire; the baby was a  _he_ , was a  _boy_ , a boy that would be born and grow up and go to school. A boy that might be interested in sports, or in dance, or in music, or (if Alex was lucky) in debate. A boy who would probably be an Alpha or an omega, as babies that were a different endotype from one of their parents were very rare. A boy who would one day find a mate of his own, who would …

Alex stared at the ultrasound, suddenly connecting it with the thing inside him. With the  _baby_ inside him. With the  _baby boy_ inside him …

“Holy shit, I'm pregnant,” he suddenly blurted out, interrupting Dave's riveting explanation of the fetal cardiac activity.

Dave blinked at him, shocked and a little alarmed. Alex blushed at the statement and just how stupid it sounded. Thomas, for his part, patted his knee comfortingly. Well, somewhat comfortingly. “Try to keep up, Dear,” he deadpanned, and Alex could feel his blush deepen.

If anything, Dave looked even more alarmed by Thomas' reaction. “It _can_ be a little overwhelming at times,” the Alphan doctor tried to smooth things over.

Alex was then given a gown and a blanket, and asked to get undressed while Dave stepped out. He did as asked, Thomas taking his clothes as he stripped out of them and folding them carefully. Alex hurried into the gown – somehow, getting naked at the doctor's always made him feel so vulnerable.

Dave started with his chest, doing a basic exam to check for lumps; Alex's mammary glands would be activated for the first time in his life, which occasionally caused problems. Alex was then informed that he would eventually be growing breasts – not large ones, but definitely larger than his current flat chest – information that Alex knew, but glowered at anyway. One more thing that was going to get fat.

Then Dave put his feet in the stirrups and lifted the blanket in his lap. Alex laid back and tried to relax as the doctor did a visual examination of his genitals. Thomas, perhaps afraid that he would have another panic attack, stood beside his bed and buried Alex's face in his shirt.

Thomas was trying, he really was, but that wasn't helping. Especially as he relaxed a little too far. The familiar scent in his nose, a hand at his oversensitive private bits, and his dick decided to become interested in what was going on.

“I am so, so sorry,” he ripped his face out of Thomas' shirt to say, mortified as his dick became fully erect.

Fortunately, Dave didn't seem worried by it. “Perfectly normal,” he reassured the man. “Now, we're going to check out your vagina.”

“Vagina?” Now it was Alex's turn to be concerned. “I kind of don't have a vagina, Dave.” He gestured to his still embarrassingly erect dick. “It's a boy.”

“Yes, but you're a boy _omega_ , which means that you have both,” Dave explained. “This is going to be cold!” He rubbed something wet behind Alex's balls, and Alex immediately felt the skin there go numb.

“No he doesn't,” Thomas spoke up, walking over to the business end of the bed to see what was going on. “Allow me to reassure you, Doctor, I have thoroughly examined every inch of skin this man has in that area, and I promise you that there is no- _holy shit, there's a hole there!”_

“A hole where?!” Alex cried, getting concerned. “What's going on down there?!”

“Relax, relax, it's perfectly normal,” Dave assured them both. “Just like a female, a male omega has a vagina that leads to his womb; unlike a female, he doesn't actually use it for intercourse, so until it's time for him to give birth, it stays firmly shut.” He held up a jar of some sort of gel, presumably the substance that had made Alex's entire bathing suit area numb. “Or unless it's coaxed open.” The Alpha put down the jar and picked up a speculum. “Now, we're just going to take a bit of a peek under the hood. We're going to get a cell sample from around the cervix, so we can check for any abnormalities.”

Alex felt a slight pressure as the speculum was inserted and spread, but could feel nothing else as the doctor did … whatever it was he was doing down there.

Thomas watched, still in shock. “It's that dimple, right behind your balls,” he said. “The one that's been- _that's_ why it's been so sensitive lately!” He turned to Dave. “All I have to do is look at it strongly, and he comes.”

Maybe a little too much information to share with someone else, even a doctor. Alex was about to speak up, but Dave beat him to it. “Not at all unusual,” he reassured Thomas, as if that was what had Thomas so excited. “Some pregnant mothers become so sensitive that sex becomes uncomfortable; others enjoy the extra sensitivity and go the opposite way, becoming even more sexually active. I take it that you two are in the second category?”

Thomas didn't hear a word Dave said, too busy staring at Alex's new vagina. “And now there's a hole there,” he muttered to himself. Then said something that sounded like “Transformers shit.”

“Alright,” Dave said, peeling off his gloves. “We're all done here. I'm going to step outside and let you get dressed.”

As he left, Alex began to sit up and reach for the tissues to clean himself off, but Thomas was already there. The Alpha wiped the gel off of his genitals, and to his credit didn't even make his examination of the “new” hole obvious.

Fortunately, the same gel that had numbed the muscles around his vagina – and wasn't that an interesting concept he was going to have to wrap his head around at some point? – also took care of his boner, so he easily slipped back into his clothes. “How did I not know that I had a vagina?” he asked Thomas.

His mate shrugged. “Substandard schools. Cultural disgust of omegan anatomy. Cultural dismissal of anything omega, really. Take your pic.” He thought a moment. “For what it's worth, I didn't know, either.”

Somehow, the fact that his mate hadn't known about the existence of his vagina didn't surprise Alex.

Asking the doctor questions was much easier when one was clothed. As soon as Dave reentered the room, Alex was ready. “Is that the first time my vagina has, well, opened?” he asked the doctor.

“Very likely,” he confirmed. “Unlike females, omegan males don't menstruate.”

Letting that slide … “Then how did I get pregnant?” he asked. “Thomas didn't, well, _do_ anything … there.”

“No,” Dave agreed, “but he did _do something,_ as you put it, in your rectum. The rectum and the vagina are very close, with only a wall of tissue separating the two. Normally, that tissue is thick enough to keep the two areas separate; but during your heat, the wall thins, allowing material, such as semen, to leak from one into the other. That's also why most omegas can't get pregnant unless they're in heat.”

Alex took a moment to digest that. “So that's where the baby will … come out?”

“Yes, the baby will be born via the vagina. Hormones during labor will unseal the opening and dilate it and your cervix just as far as a female's.”

Alex thought about that a moment, then nodded his understanding and indicated that he was finished asking questions.

“Alright, then. We have the cell samples I've taken today, and the blood sample we took earlier, so we'll be running those. We're looking for a variety of things, everything from cancer to incompatibility of you two's blood types. If we find anything of concern, we'll be giving you a call. If not, we won't need to see you two again until next month.” He looked at Alex. “Unless we find anything of concern, we will only be needing to do one more ultrasound, around the 18th week.”

“No,” Alex stated simply.

“No?” Dave asked, visibly taken aback by the answer.

“No,” Alex repeated. “No more ultrasounds. I will not budge on that. You've told us that this was the important one, anyway.”

“Alright,” Dave hedged. “Let's not say anything definite yet, hmm? We'll revisit the issue next time?”

Alex nodded his agreement, although his mind was made up. Humans had been successfully delivering babies for millions of years without ultrasounds; his would be just another. But he was not letting that machine touch him again.

They left the office with an appointment scheduled for the next month.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I want some numbing gel for the next time my gynecologist wants to stick a speculum up my ho-ha, 'cause let me tell you, those things hurt like a bitch.
> 
> Got this one up on time! And it's a respectable length!


	5. The Accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other day, I was in Walmart and went through the baby section on a whim. It made me realize three fundamental truths at the exact same time: 1) baby stuff is fucking adorable, and oddly entertaining to shop for, even sans baby; 2) there is no way that Thomas would let any child of his anywhere near anything that had been purchased at Wally-World; and 3) this fic has taken over my life to an almost unhealthy degree.

Four weeks later – 18 weeks pregnant – and Alex was getting larger by the day. Already, his belly curved gracefully from his small frame, skin stretched smooth and soft by what it contained.

Predictably, Alex hated it. Occasionally, Thomas would catch him looking down at his expanding belly with a mournful expression on his face. Every so often, he'd make fat jokes about himself and laugh – voice making light of the situation, but a tightness around the eyes telling his mate that it wasn't entirely a joke.

Thomas, on the other hand, had never seen anything so lovely as his mate's pregnant belly. That was their child in there. Their wonderful, amazing child. The child that his amazing mate was carrying and nurturing, was caring for, until it finally was time to meet him.

Him.

They were watching television together when it happened. Some stupid reality show that Thomas hadn't quite figured out all the way yet. Alex loved it, though, and was watching the screen intently, when all of a sudden a strange expression crossed his face and his hand went to his stomach.

Instantly, Thomas was alert. “What is it?” he asked, careful to keep his voice calm.

“The baby,” Alex answered. “He moved.”

Thomas had read about this moment before, of course. All those parenting books that he had purchased had mentioned the quickening, the moment when the baby moved for the first time. But nothing he had read could have prepared him for the awe on his mate's face.

“Here.” And wonder of wonders, Alex seized his hand and placed it on his own belly, a few inches below the navel.

Thomas couldn't feel anything, not yet, but he would one day. One day the baby wouldn't leave his mate alone, and Alex would long for the days when the baby was just a flutter of movement. Until then, his mate would just have to feel it for both of them.

“I love you so much,” Thomas stated, gently stroking his hand along Alex's belly, then reaching up to caress his cheek. “Both of you.”

The two mates made out like teenagers while the reality show played in the background, completely forgotten.

* * *

The August appointment with Dr. Hosack came and went without too much incident. Predictably, Dave brought up the ultrasound; just as predictably, Alex put his foot down and refused. Technically, Thomas could have spoken up and been entirely within his legal rights to demand that the ultrasound be performed anyway, Alex's feelings on the matter be damned; but just the thought of the trauma that that procedure would involve made him fairly nauseous, and his respect for Dr. Hosack rose as the man didn't even suggest it.

And life went on. As Congress was in a recess for the second half of the summer until mid-September, Thomas didn't have to go into his office much but could work from home. Those days he spent with his omega curled up beside him, helping him with the wording of a specific email or bill from time to time but mostly dozing in and out of sleep until the heady, hormone-ridden smell of his mate inspired Thomas to declare himself finished for the day so that he could take his omega to bed and fuck him.

He had to be careful, though, as his little omega had become rather fragile as of late. Dave had assured them that it was normal for Alex to easily get short of breath, as the baby was compressing his lungs and therefore limiting their capacity – a state that was likely to only get worse as his pregnancy progressed. So Thomas had to baby his little omega, keep him safe, make sure that the most strenuous activity he ever did was his prenatal yoga class.

Still, there were days that going into the office was necessary. He hated to leave his pregnant omega, but even on those days, he had a fond image of his head of Alex, comfy on the couch, snuggled up under a blanket and safe, with his staff watching over him.

He kept that image in his head and cherished it, accepting it as gospel, right up until he got a call from the emergency room.

* * *

It was stupid, really. If his asshole mate hadn't put the Jalapeño Jack Sun Chips – which he knew full well Alex had been craving! – up on the top shelf where other people not as freakishly tall couldn't reach them, then none of it would have happened. Normally, it wouldn't have been a problem; Alex would have just jumped up on the countertop and reached them from there. But his jumping abilities had been curtailed as of late.

To be completely honest, he probably should have gotten a member of Thomas' gigantean staff to get it for him. But fuck that; there was a list as tall as Thomas of things he wasn't allowed to do because of the baby, and he'd be fucked with a cactus if he let one more thing be added to that list voluntarily.

So he'd dug out the step ladder, positioned it where he needed it, and had every intention of being up and down before anyone was the wiser. That was the intention, at least. Instead, because he'd forgotten about his changed center of gravity, he'd gone sprawling on his ass across the kitchen floor.

Honestly, it wasn't a big deal. He was fine, really. The only part of him seriously hurt was his pride. His ass, which he landed on, might be sore for the next few days, but Thomas had done worse to it in the past.

Unfortunately, his security detail had heard the crash, and he hadn't been able to right himself before they came running in. Not only had they insisted on calling him an ambulance, but they'd made him stay on the floor until the paramedics showed up.

So he'd had no choice but to lay there and let his bodyguards fuss over him, then lay there and let the EMTs do the same. They shone a light into his eyes and asked him if various parts of his body hurt, then loaded him up on the gurney and whisked him away to the hospital.

It was bad enough that everyone was making such a fuss over the entire thing. It was bad enough that the doctor in the ER had gone over the exact same light-and-questions routine that the EMTs had, “just to be sure”. And of course the doctor wanted to do an ultrasound, “just to check on the baby”, until he informed her in no unclear terms that he would be taking the wand and forcibly shoving it up her rectum if she got the ultrasound machine anywhere close enough for him to reach.

No, on top of all that, they had to call Thomas.

He came charging into the room full-speed, terror written all over every inch of his body. Once he saw Alex, sitting up and looking more annoyed than anything else, the range of emotions that crossed his face was almost comical. Almost, because Alex loved his mate too much to get enjoyment from his suffering, even if he was an asshole at times. Also almost, because the emotion he settled on was “mad at Alex”.

So, anyway. The long and short of it was, Alex got a personal-assistant-cum-babysitter for the days Thomas had to go into work at his office.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to take a darker turn, with the doctor getting permission from Alex's emergency medical guardian (his bodyguard) to have the ultrasound done, before I decided that you guys have been hit over the head with the "This Society Treats Omegas Like Second Class Citizens!" bat enough as is.


	6. The Babysitter

It had taken much longer than Thomas had expected – over a week – to find the right person for the job. The field of childcare seemed to attract mostly gentle and nurturing omegas. Which was fine for a child, he supposed, but not what he was looking for. The only non-omegas seemed to go to the opposite extreme; one beta asked him how he felt about corporal punishment, _after_ he had explained that this post was for his mate and not his child. Thomas had told him calmly that he didn't think that he was what they were looking for, then put Mr. Lee's application in the shredder.

Finally, however, he thought that he had found the woman for the job.

“Come in,” he said to the curly-haired Alpha as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. “Thank you so much for seeing me here.”

“Don't worry about it!” she reassured him. “I just appreciate you giving me a hearing, even though I'm an Alpha. Most parents don't want one of us looking after their children; it messes with too many instincts.”

“Actually, this post would eventually be for a child – a boy – but for now it's for my mate.” He then explained to the woman about Alex's little stunt with the stepladder the week before.

“So you're looking for an Alpha or beta because you're concerned that an omega would be too easy to dominate?” she asked, immediately catching on.

“I'm looking for an Alpha because I'm concerned that my mate would eat all omegas and most betas alive, yes,” he corrected.

She cocked a brow. “That stubborn?” she asked.

“You'll see, I suppose,” he replied.

Her lips crept into a smile. “So that's it, then?”

“I'd love you to start on Monday,” he confirmed. “And remember, as far as Alex is concerned, you're an assistant, not anything else. I don't want him knowing that I've essentially hired him a nanny.”

“I wondered about that part of the ad!” the woman laughed. “I suppose I'll see you on Monday, then.”

Thomas stood to scent with her. “I look forward to it, Ms. Lewis.”

“Please,” she said, leaning in to reciprocate the gesture, “call me Maria.”

* * *

Alex didn't like this. Not even a little. He was sitting on the couch watching _Live With Kelly,_ but mostly watching the strange Alpha out of the corner of his eye.

Ever since Laddergate, Thomas hadn't trusted him to so much sneeze without supervision. And it had been cute at first, but to be honest it was getting old. There was a difference between protective and cloying, and Thomas was so far over that line he wasn't even in the same state anymore.

So, okay. Alex put up with it, let the Alpha baby him, because he knew that it came from a place of love, but mostly because he knew that Thomas had a meeting he absolutely had to attend on Monday and that would give Alex a break. After that, if Thomas still hadn't calmed down, they'd have a Frank discussion like two mature adults.

That was, of course, before Ms. Maria Lewis walked into his life.

Thomas had introduced Maria as his “assistant”, someone to help make sure he had help around the house with whatever he may need due to his “changing circumstances”, but Alex wasn't an idiot. He knew exactly what Maria was here for, and it involved pretending to knit in the corner while really watching Alex like a hawk.

“When your program is finished, would you like to get ready for your prenatal yoga class?” she asked suddenly.

Ah, yes. Prenatal yoga. Thomas had gotten a flyer at the maternity store and was all excited about Alex signing up. Supposedly, it helped reduce tension and calm the nerves, but fuck that noise. It was also supposed to improve balance, which meant that Thomas had been pushing it extra hard over the weekend. Alex had responded with his feelings about ...

“Fucking hipster nonsense,” he muttered to himself.

Not quietly enough, because Maria was suddenly on point like a gundog. “You're going to want to watch that language around the baby,” she commented, a new steel in her voice. “They can hear by 16 weeks.”

Alex just rolled his eyes. “He'll get used to it, I promise,” he assured her sarcastically.

That did it. The knitting needles went down. “I'm sorry, did I stutter?” she cracked the words at him like a whip. “No cursing around the baby.”

He glared at her, and she just stared back. She didn't need to glare; suddenly, he was hit with the urge to submit, to lower his eyes and make his body soft, to beg for forgiveness. Stupid Alpha, pressing her scent glands. Even knowing she was playing dirty, the need to submit built in him, until he couldn't help but break eye contact.

“I'm going to still say 'damn', 'hell', and 'shit',” he informed her, trying to regain ground.

“I think that's reasonable,” she commented pleasantly and went back to knitting, like they had just been locked in a battle for dominance. A battle he had a feeling that he had lost soundly.

* * *

Yoga was … interesting. And exactly as much hipster nonsense as he was expecting. The instructor, a beta female much more pregnant than he was, demonstrated the advanced pose before showing the beginners a simplified version; and Alex wasn't too proud to say that he was extremely impressed by some of the things she was able to do. If he was able to balance on one foot while squatting with his hands folded in front of him when he was as pregnant as she was, this bullshit might be worth it.

As it was, he left the class feeling looser, easier in his own skin, so it wasn't a complete waste of time. He also got in a good nap when they ended the class in “deep meditation” lying flat on their backs, so there was also that.

* * *

Thomas wasn't quite sure what to expect when he returned home that evening, but he wasn't disappointed. Maria was sitting in the armchair off to the side of the room, while Alex was curled up on his side of the couch completely passed out. He nodded to the other Alpha, then bent down to kiss his mate's cheek.

Alex must not have been as asleep as he seemed, because he rolled his head to present his neck to his mate. Thomas took advantage of the new angle to nuzzle at his scent gland and kiss around it, causing Alex to sigh in contentment.

“Big day?” he asked the omega.

“I did yoga,” Alex admitted sheepishly, as if confessing to something shameful.

Thomas didn't stop the huge grin that spread over his face; his mate had been cooped up in the house for too long. Cabin fever didn't agree with Alex, as the incident with the step ladder demonstrated. “How was it?” he asked.

Alex shot him a disappointed look, which meant that he didn't hate it, but didn't want to admit it.

“I knew you'd enjoy yourself,” Thomas smirked, kissing his scent gland again. “You wanna know what else I know?”

“What?” Alex asked, trying and failing to feign disinterest while melting under Thomas' lips.

“That jacuzzi jets are very good for muscles that have recently been exercised. And that the tub in our bathroom is big enough for two people.”

Alex considered a moment before getting up without a word and walking out of the room. Thomas would have asked him where he was going, keep the banter going, except that Alex snagged his hand on his way past and pulled the Alpha out behind him.

_Thank you,_ Thomas mouthed to Maria before leaving the room and the other Alpha's line of sight. She had been able to do the impossible, after all: get Alexander Jefferson to try yoga.

From her spot in the armchair, Maria just smirked.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas goan get some
> 
> Before anyone asks: no, Alex will not be having an affair with Maria (Reynolds) Lewis in this universe. I have a lot of Feelings about Maria Reynolds, and I'm not going to get up on my soapbox or anything, but suffice it to say that I feel strongly that she got the short end of a particularly nasty stick, and as the only account of the affair we have is from Ham (who was trying to make himself look as good as possible and salvage his reputation, remember), and historical Ham was quite the asshole, I sincerely doubt that the reality of what happened bears more than a passing resemblance to Hamilton's account. So in my world, homegirl was bonded with James, another Alpha, who was abusive, so she dissolved the bond. Alphas very rarely take on the last name of their bondmate, so she never changed her name to Reynolds in the first place. She's now free of him, and living the life that she should have had in reality if she had lived in a world that wasn't so shitty to women in general and poor women in particular.


	7. The Jacuzzi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be another chapter to progress the story, but then [Fancypearl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fancypearl/) and Jessica asked for the jacuzzi scene, and one thing led to another ... and now you guys get an entire chapter of literally nothing but fucking in the bathroom.

It may have been Alex that pulled him from the room, but as soon as they got into the bathroom Thomas took charge. Alex suddenly found himself shoved against the door, Thomas' hands reaching under his clothes to roam his skin, Thomas' mouth pressed firmly against his. Alex was more than willing to reciprocate, and they happily fooled around in that way for several minutes before Thomas pulled back. Alex took the opportunity to catch his breath, panting and chest heaving, enjoying the pleasant buzz in his brain and the stirrings of arousal in his dick.

But then Thomas dropped to one knee and lifted the hem of Alex's shirt, exposing his stomach inch by slow inch. Every new patch of skin he mouthed and kissed at, caressing it with his lips and hands. A month ago, this would have been unthinkable; now, Alex let himself be trapped against the door, feeling his mate's attentions on his stomach, and couldn't help but mew in pleasure and chitter in anticipation of what was to come.

Then his shirt was off, gone, and Thomas took one of his ultra-sensitive nipples between his teeth and tugged at it ever-so-gently. Alex gasped and found himself unconsciously grabbing at Thomas, at the wall, at his own clothes, at anything he could reach with an almost spasm-like intensity. Then Thomas repeated the motion on the other nipple, this time adding a swirl with his tongue, and Alex almost came right then and there.

The bathroom was done in pleasant shades of cream-colored tile and dark walnut wood. The tub itself was enclosed in a platform, with walnut-paneled sides and a top made of the same cream tiles as the countertops and floor. Thomas grabbed both the hem of his sweatpants and his boxer briefs and pulled them down together. Alex chittered again at the sensation of fabric against the skin of his erect dick. Thomas finished pulling the clothes off of his legs then sat him, now nude, on the edge of the tub's platform. The Alpha reached up to a touchpad that controlled the tub and programmed it to fill. Alex heard the rush of water from the spigot behind him as the tub obeyed, but he paid it no mind because by then Thomas was back and sinking to the floor in front of Alex, opening Alex's knees.

The Alpha took Alex's dick into his mouth, but instead of using any of his usual tricks simply focused on the thrusting motion of pulling the dick into his throat and then back out. Alex sighed with the pleasure of the in-and-out motion, with feeling the tongue slide back and forth along his dick, but that wasn't what Thomas wanted. The Alpha looked up at his mate through his eyelashes, took Alex's hand, and placed it in his hair.

Alex's eyes widened. He stared down at his mate, unsure; but his mate nodded his permission.

The hair felt soft and yet coarse against the skin of his fingers as he grabbed a handful of the stuff. He used the hand in his mate's hair and his calves against the wooden sides of the platform as leverage and thrusts experimentally into Thomas' mouth. Thomas moans, and Alex can feel the vibrations against his dick, and it's all the permission he needs as he begins to fuck Thomas' face in earnest.

* * *

Alex doesn't warn him before he comes; there's no need. He knows his mate's every move, every action, knows his mate's body intimately and thoroughly, and knows by the way the muscles in his thighs and dick suddenly contract to open his throat and accept the omega's load.

Alex gazes down at him, a little taken aback at being allowed to take control, and it makes just a tiny flicker of guilt build in Thomas' chest. As the Alpha, in society's eyes, it's his responsibility to take control, to take the lead, to set the tone for every interaction with his mate, whether it be in public or in the bedroom or anywhere in between.

But if there was one thing that being mated to Alex had taught him, it was that society's expectations often led to a lonely and broken bonding. Their culture wanted to make Alex, and all other omegas, into toys, into dolls that were content to be molded and posed into whatever their betters wished; but Thomas wanted a partner, not a doll. He wanted a partner, not an inferior.

Most of the time, he was good about making sure Alex got his say, too. Good about making sure Alex's thoughts and feelings and needs were being honored, just like his own. But sometimes he needed a reminder.

He'd have to remember to give his mate control in the bedroom every so often.

Later. Now, his mate is pulling away, like he believes them done. Like he believes that a simple blowjob is all he's worth. The flicker of guilt roars into a flame of purpose, as he grabs a double handful of ass and sucks Alex's dick back down into his mouth.

“Thomas?” Alex asked, a little tentative. “Are yo- oh!”

Thomas swirls his tongue around Alex's head, then caresses the veins of the shaft with it. He keeps ahold of Alex with his left hand, but takes his right to reach back around and fondle Alex's balls.

“Alpha,” Alex is crying. “Alpha, it's so much! So much! Too much!”

Thomas pays him no mind; Alex, he knows, loves the overstimulation of being pushed through one orgasm to orgasm again, and that knowledge is vindicated as he feels the omega's dick hardening again in his mouth. Besides, they had worked out a system a year ago, when Thomas had stroked Alex through four consecutive orgasms just because Alex had wanted to see how many he could do. They had worked out a safe word, so that Alex could protest as much as he wanted without the danger of Thomas actually stopping.

What the staff thought of all this, of Alex sobbing and begging him to stop, Thomas didn't know. Nor did he much care. He just knew that his little omega could scream his heart out if he wished, and as long as he didn't say 'honeydew' Thomas would keep going.

More than going, in fact. Thomas reached a finger behind his balls, to the dimple there – the vagina, he reminded himself – and just like that Alex was coming down his throat again.

By then, the tub was filled and ready. Thomas stood, a little wobbly from kneeling on the tiled floor, and divested himself of his own clothes before helping his pregnant mate and himself into the bathtub. With one final flourish, he reached over and turned on the jets.

He had been going to knot Alex, but the omega was looking like he might actually nod off in the warm water. The jets would turn off automatically in 20 minutes, so they didn't have to worry about staying immersed in the warm water long enough to be a danger to the baby. So, instead, Thomas pulled Alex into his lap, placing his hands protectively on the omega's stomach, and let him drift off if he wished.

Thomas himself was starting to nod off when Alex woke suddenly. “Alpha?” he muttered, grinding his ass back into Thomas' lap.

“Hmm?” Thomas asked drowsily, annoyed at the way his dick was beginning to respond to Alex's movements.

“We haven't taken care of you yet,” the omega reminded him.

“Don't worry about me,” Thomas assured the man, and meant it. “You've had a big day; just focus on keeping yourself safe and comfortable.”

Alex thought about that for a moment. “Fuck that,” he decided. “I'm going to fuck you instead.”

Thomas chuckled and was about to respond that that wasn't necessary, when Alex in one motion turned around so they were facing each other, kneeled so that he was straddling Thomas' legs, and plunged himself down onto Thomas' dick.

Every nerve ending in Thomas' body suddenly snapped to life. The omega was already starting to work up a rhythm, bobbing up and down on Thomas' dick and threatening to swamp the bathroom. Thomas could not care less; the feeling of sliding in and out of his mate was the greatest feeling in the world. He reached over and bit gently on the meaty part of Alex's neck; Alex responded with a throaty moan; and the jets cut off just in time for Thomas to see clearly as the omega came for the third time. That sight was enough to send Thomas over the edge as well, and he felt his entire body burst into an inferno of pleasure.

Alex sighed happily in his arms through the knot's inflation, and shook through the post-orgasm tremors in a familiar ritual Thomas had grown to love. He held the omega through his bliss, Alex's body pressed against his own, and could have sworn he felt the baby move against his own skin.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed that little scene more than the staff who's gonna have to clean in there at some point!


	8. The Clarification

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't going to go in this direction. Poor Alex needed to unload, but it was supposed to be Maria who got the blast. But Alex needed to say his piece too much to wait for Maria, so Thomas got it instead. And y'all get some angst.

Thomas woke the next morning to the sun shining brightly through the blinds and a sleepy omega curled up by his side. He stroked his mate's back gently, and was rewarded by Alex sighing in his sleep and tucking himself farther into Thomas' armpit. The Alpha stared down at his mate, just enjoying the sight of his beautiful omega so relaxed and wondering if he should wake him, when his phone started blowing up with texts.

He swore under his breath and reached for the phone to mute the text notification ringer, but it was too late. Alex stirred, beginning to work his way back to consciousness, as Thomas read his intern's texts and swore again.

“E'ryth'n' okay?” Alex slurred sleepily.

“Just Adams being Adams,” Thomas responded, referring to a Massachusetts senator who was notoriously difficult to work with. “He's starting to stir up trouble in preparation for the recess ending next month.” Then remembered who he was talking to. “Rumor has it he's drafting a bill that would make it illegal to make false statements critical of the federal government.”

Alex scrunched up his face in an expression that was his opinion of either Adams' politics or having to wake up. He still hadn't opened his eyes. “Tha's a direct attack on the-” he paused sentence to yawn “-First Am'n'mnt.”

“Yes, I know,” Thomas sighed. “James and I are going to be drafting some official statements and resolutions to combat it. Which means I'll need to go into my office today.” He sighed again, then unlocked his phone.

“Textin' James?” Alex asked, watching his fingers fly over the keyboard.

“Texting your assistant,” he corrected gently.

And just like that, Alex was completely awake. “My nanny, you mean,” he corrected Thomas in the same inflection, but his words had a bite to them.

Well, shit. Thomas should have known that his mate would figure it out eventually; he just wasn't expecting it so soon. “The woman keeping you safe,” he replied, putting a bit of steel behind his own words. “If you want to think of her as a nanny, you're welcome to; personally, I like to think of her as the person _assisting_ you to keep yourself safe and healthy when I'm not around.”

Alex snorted at that, and it was amazing how the simple blowing of air through the nose could come off as somehow angry  _and_ bitter. “You forget that I am an adult,” the omega countered. “I'm quite capable of keeping myself 'safe and healthy', thankyouverymuch.”

And maybe it wasn't fair, maybe he should just leave it at that, but Thomas didn't feel like pulling his punches right then. “Like you did last week?” he snarked, with a bit more bite to it than he wanted.

“Okay, you know what?” Alex hissed, sitting up. “I made one mistake, _one mistake._ People fall _all the time,_ and I was okay! I was okay! Nothing happened! And now, all of a sudden, I'm the clumsy, incompetent, clueless _omega_ who would wander off into traffic if given half a chance, and need the guidance of a wise, caring Alpha to watch my every move. Well, you know what? _Fuck that!”_

Thomas reeled from the venom in his mate's words. “Language,” he muttered, more to himself than to Alex.

That wasn't the way Alex took it, however. “What, fuck?” he asked. “You don't like me saying _'fuck'_ in front of the baby? Well, _fuck you!_ I'll say whatever the _fuck_ I want, when I _fucking_ want, because my baby – _my_ baby – isn't going to be some _fucking_ little pretentious _motherfucker_ who gasps and clutches his pearls at any language stronger than 'golly gee' or some such _fucking_ nonsense!”

Thomas wanted to be angry, wanted to be furious, but felt his anger slip away with every word his mate said. “Is that what you think this is about?” he asked calmly, quietly.

It took the wind out of Alex's argument. “What else is it about?” he asked, throwing his hands up. Then, because he was Alex, “what else is it ever _fucking_ about?”

Thomas considered for a moment, and laid back down on the bed. He reached up and pulled Alex down beside him; Alex resisted a moment before complying, laying down so that he was facing Thomas. Thomas then pulled his mate to him, wrapping his legs around Alex's thighs, arching his back to accommodate Alex's stomach, and pulling Alex's chest so that it was touching his and their faces were inches apart. “My Darling,” Thomas cooed, running a knuckle gently along Alex's jawline. “My sweet, sweet Darling. It is _never_ about that. It will never _be_ about that. Do you think I care if you _fucking_ swear in front of the baby? Do you think that I'm that desperate to have the perfect child, that I would sacrifice the mother?”

He leaned over, kissed his mate's forehead. “I love you, I love you so so much. This baby? I love him, too. I would hate to see anything bad happen to him. When you fell off the ladder, had it caused a miscarriage, I would have been disappointed – not at you, at life. I would have been sad. But to lose you? Had you fell in just the right way, and broken your neck? Baby, I would be _devastated_. To lose you – especially in such a pointless, avoidable way – would kill me. It's not the baby I'm doing all this for, it's _you.”_

Thomas couldn't help it; he reached over to kiss his forehead again. “And I know that you do your best; but, Darling? You're not always very good at taking care of yourself. That's always, _always,_ been something I've had to worry about; but now that you're pregnant, it's so different. Things that would have made you sick before? Now could kill you. Things that would have only been a minor inconvenience before? Would make me a widower. And, Alex, Baby, I can't lose you, okay?”

He sighed. “When I got that call, when I heard that you had had an accident; Jesus, I never want to go through that again. I never want to even think that I could _possibly_ lose you again, okay? _That's_ why I hired you a nanny. Not because I don't trust you – fine, not totally,” he amended at Alex's look, “but because your accident made it clear to me that there was a need here, someone to take care of you full time, not just check in with you every so often when they happened to have a moment between their other duties. Someone to make sure that you don't climb any more ladders, and go to your yoga classes – which you liked, admit it! – and eat when you're supposed to. Someone to run down to the 7-11 and get you all the Jalapeño Jack chips you want, or anything else you might desire. In other words, someone who can step in and do my job for me, when I can't.”

Alex was watching him, watching every move he made, as if trying to weigh the truth of his words with the fire of his own anger. Finally, with a sigh, he conceded. “Okay,” he said simply.

“Okay?” Thomas asked, just to make sure.

“Okay,” Alex repeated. “Okay. Text Maria.”

 


	9. The Confrontation

The moment Maria Lewis walked through that door, Alex could feel his anxiety rising. _This is what you wanted,_ he reminded himself from the spot on the couch where he had dragged his laptop. _It will be fine._

Still, it took longer than he was expecting for Maria to start something. Nine turned to ten, turned to eleven, turned to noon. At 12:00 on the dot, she put the ever-present knitting down. “Would you like to eat lunch?” she asked, so ready to walking to the kitchen to make him something that she might as well not be in the room.

“Not right now, thanks,” he replied, engrossed in his work.

Not too engrossed, however, to see the look of disapproval she shot him before sitting back down with her knitting.

She gave it another half hour. “Are you ready for lunch now?” she asked, voice still pleasant but with just a hint of steel behind it.

“I'm not hungry right now, but thanks anyway,” he replied, just as pleasantly.

At 1:00, she put the knitting down again. “Are you hungry yet?” she asked him, just a bit more steel in her voice.

He sighed. “I could probably eat some cheese crackers?” he asked. He was supposed to have had morning sickness in the first trimester and left that nonsense behind by the second, but lately his nausea had come back with a vengeance. It destroyed what little appetite he had.

Maria pursed her lips in disapproval. “You need to eat something more substantial than crackers,” she chided him.

And, suddenly, the moment he had been dreading and anticipating in equal parts was there. “Is that so?” he asked, keeping his voice disinterested and not looking up from his laptop.

And there it was; the urge to  _submi_ _ t. _ The voice in his head telling him that he should be obeying the Alpha, that he should beg for forgiveness and submit to whatever it was she asked of him.

Well, fuck that. “Did I stutter?” he shot her words back at her.

The fact that the scent gland trick wasn't working had her narrowing her eyes in anger. “Of course it's 'so',” she finally answered him. “You need to keep your strength up, both for yourself and for the baby.”

“No,” he said simply, turning back to the laptop. “I don't think so. Crackers is plenty for now.”

He watched out of the corner of his eye. There was a moment, just a moment, when she obviously considered storming over and closing his laptop, but didn't. Instead, without another word, she went to get his crackers.

Things were tense, but quiet, for another few hours. He was looking over part of the bill Thomas was drafting, trying desperately to appease Democrats and Republicans both, when he realized a mistake that had probably been holding them back for months. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, highlighting pages of text that would now have to be deleted and rewritten.

“Language,” Maria chided reflexively.

“As far as I know, the word 'fuck' is a word in the English language, yes,” he snarked, only half paying attention to the Alpha.

“That's not what I meant, and you know it.”

Another wave of scent hit him, more urging to submit to her will. And Alex decided that he had had enough. “Yes, I know it, that's true,” he agreed, closing his laptop, because if they were going to do this? They were going to do it. “You know what else I know is true? The fact that you don't have the right to tell me what I can and cannot say, and what language I can and cannot use.”

Maria's lips pursed in anger. “The baby-” she began, predictably, but Alex was having none of it.

“-will be fine,” he finished for her. “The baby will grow up knowing _fuck,_ and _shit,_ and all those other fun words. And he will grow up with a stronger vocabulary and more respect for his native language because of it.”

“Your mate hired me-” she tried again.

“Yeah, and you know what? My mate was wrong.” He stared her in the eye, ignoring the heady pheromones swirling in the air between them. “I am a grown adult, and have the right to decide for myself things like what vocabulary I will use, and when I will eat lunch, and if I will go to yoga or not. I _have that right._ And nobody, _not even my mate,_ has the right to take my agency away from me.” He could feel the corners of his eyes prickling, and dammit, he didn't want to cry right now. “I have had _enough_ of Alphas trying to run my life for me to last a lifetime, I have had _enough_ of Alphas telling me what to do, and how to act, and how to _think,_ and … shit.” The tears were coming in earnest now, and he mopped angrily at his face. “I will not be made a prisoner inside my own house.”

She watched him through this speech, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Then, again, Alphas were always uncomfortable around a crying omega; they never knew what to do. “Alright,” she said finally. “That's … that's fair.” She looked away, the first to break eye contact, and Alex felt guilty for just a moment knowing that her defeat was likely due to the emotions of his crying before remembering her manipulation of him the other day. “Okay,” she said again. “What _do_ you want, then?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm his raging emotions, trying to get ahold of himself. “Being pregnant sucks,” he muttered, wiping his eyes again.

“I would give anything to find out for myself,” she replied, looking even more uncomfortable; Alex realized that she had likely just let him see a part of herself, a part of the _real_ Maria, that she didn't show a lot of people.

He didn't respond to it; he didn't know how. He didn't _know_ this woman. “I want an assistant,” he finally said. “I want you to be what you said that you'd be, what my mate said that you'd be. I don't want a babysitter, I don't want a _mother,_ I just want someone who will go up on that _motherfucking_ stepladder next time, so that we don't have a repeat of what happened last time I dared to do something for myself.” He was starting to get a bit bitter again; he reined himself back in. “I want someone who will remind me that it's time to go to yoga, or that it's time to eat lunch, or whatever; but if I say that I'm not hungry, or that I don't want to do yoga today, or that just the thought of any food stronger than crackers makes me nauseous, they'll respect that and back off. I want someone who'll remind me what's good for the baby and what's not, but not get caught up on the trivial and unimportant. I want an _assistant._ That's all.”

She watched him while he spoke, taking in every word and every gesture; he wished he could know what was going on behind those black, emotionless eyes, what she was thinking. “I can do that,” she finally said. “But I'm trained in childcare; I can tell you at exactly what week your baby develops lungs, I can tell you the best way to change a diaper, I can tell you exactly what nutrients a child needs and in what quantities. But I'm shit at adults.”

He nodded. “You said that my baby could hear sounds at 16 weeks,” he said. “I didn't know that.”

She nodded as well. “16 to 18 weeks,” she said. “At around 24 weeks, his ears will be developed enough to hear individual sounds. By that time, he'll know your voice and will physically respond to it when you talk.”

He thought about that, about his baby hearing his voice in the womb and responding to it, actively _listing_ to him, and wanted to cry all over again. “Fuck,” he said, about all of it.

And Maria threw back her head and laughed.

* * *

By the time Thomas had come home, she had joined him on the couch. The laptop sat beside him, forgotten, while his own pair of large knitting needles clicked together. She watched him, knitting herself, respectful of his space but ready to jump in should he indicate he needed help.

He already had the beginnings of a soft scarf dangling from the needles.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you guys are satisfied with the way the relationship between Alex and Maria is going! Alex still needs to talk to Thomas about boundaries, but we're wrapping this story arch up.


	10. The Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about making you guys wait for the actual birth to find this little detail out, then decided that there would be enough twists going on at that time without the extra reveal. ;)

The weeks passed by entirely too slow and way too fast at the same time. September's appointment with Dr. Hosack went smoothly – Dave didn't even mention the u-word anymore. Alex watched, amused, as Thomas almost tripped over his own feet trying to get to Dave's end of the bed in time to see the vaginal opening relax. Sometimes, even now, when they were making love, Thomas would pretend to be caressing Alex's balls when really he was moving them to the side to study the “dimple” behind them. Thomas thought he was being discreet, but any man who owned a magenta leopard-print suit was a man who didn't appreciate the concept. Alex was entirely bemused by the entire situation; had the Alpha asked, Alex would be more than happy to let him look to his heart's content. Especially because such an examination would inevitably lead to touching.

Then Alex was at 24 weeks – the magical age when Maria said the baby would respond to his voice. He started talking to the baby often, narrating what he was doing, explaining why he made this or that decision, lecturing about the finer points of knitting, walking him through the different yoga poses he would do at home. But he quickly ran into a problem: how to address the baby.

“What are we going to name the baby?” he asked Thomas one night. And Thomas, unfortunately, had put as much thought into the question as Alex had up until now.

They talked about it for hours. Family names versus fresh names, modern versus traditional, normal versus unique. Thomas, of course, was fond of a class of name that Alex had dubbed 'pretentious rich kid' names; Presten was his current favorite. Alex had laughed for entirely too long at that suggestion before realizing that Thomas was completely serious.

They hadn't been able to come to a consensus, so agreed to a rather ingenious system: a baby name board. Thomas got an enormous whiteboard and hung it in the hallway between the dining room and kitchen. Whenever either man thought of a name that they'd like, they'd write it on the board in their unique color, and then the other parent-to-be could write notes about what they thought of the other mate's choices.

It started out with a simple list of family names on both sides, then became a civil discussion of names found on Nameberry. It stayed civil for much, much longer than anyone expected. But eventually the inevitable happened, and it devolved into a more-or-less passive-aggressive snarkfest.

Then Maria added a suggestion. It was off to the side, completely away from everything else, as if she was making sure that it could be easily erased if her input wasn't wanted. But then Thomas commented on the suggestion, and Alex made a snarky remark about the comment, and pretty soon Maria was just as much a part of Operation: Baby Name as either parent.

Then Alejandra suggested a few names that she liked. And her cousin, who worked in the kitchen, commented with a reminder of the third cousin with one of those name who was serving time for throwing the first punch in a bar fight, and followed up with suggestions of his own.

Before long, the board was covered in dozens of colors, with dozens of handwritings, with hundreds of names and comments on those names.

Finally, finally, a full name arose from all the suggestions – a first, middle, and last name. Alex, whose handwriting was better than Thomas', wrote it at the bottom in big letters and circled it with a flourish of finality. Everyone involved in the selection process chimed in, writing above and below the circle how pleased they were that the perfect name had been found.

And that's how James Peter Jefferson – JJ, as he would come to be known – got his name.

* * *

There was nothing Thomas loved more than to talk to JJ.

“I don't know if he can hear you all the way across the room,” Alex teased Thomas as he was settling into a long lecture regarding the best way to pass a bill through Congress with bipartisan support.

Thomas looked up from his laptop, offended. “He can, I'm sure,” he said, although he said it a little louder. “Besides, even if he can't, it's a good refresher for his mother.”

“Oh, is that how it is?” Alex snarled back, although the gesture was ruined by his inability to stop grinning.

“Oh, that's exactly how it is,” Thomas smirked, standing up to walk over and kneel at his mate's feet. “Isn't that right, JJ? You're gonna be Daddy's Little Man, aren't you?”

Alex sighed in faux-exacerbation. “Thomas, I-” he began, then a look of shock crossed his face.

“What is it?” Thomas asked, instantly on alert. Was there a problem? Did he need to call an ambulance?

In response, Alex just grabbed his hand and placed it on his own stomach.

And nothing happened.

Confused, Thomas looked up at his mate. “What happened?” he asked. “Why are you-” And stopped talking in wonder.

Under his hand, he could feel movement. Tiny stirrings from the tiny life growing inside his mate. Stirrings that would start when Thomas starting talking, and stop when he stopped.

Thomas grinned at Alex's stomach, ignoring the tears rolling down his face. “Yeah, you're totally going to be Daddy's Little Man,” he smirked, and laughed at Alex's huff of fake indignation.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James Peter Jefferson. What do you guys think? Do you think they should have gone with Presten instead?


	11. The Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another sweet/fluffy chapter before the drama picks back up.
> 
> I've had an extremely long, tiring day; despite starting work a little early, I didn't finish until an hour after I was supposed to be able to quit, and then we had my grandmother over for dinner. I am so brain-dead right now it's not even funny. If this chapter has only a couple typos or errors, it will be a miracle. Beware the typos! Beware! And point them out in the comments so I can fix them, please.

Another five weeks pass. Alex goes to see Dr. Hosack, who delivers the bad news: from here out, he'll need to see him every two weeks. He does a swab of Alex's vaginal and anal area to send to a lab to test for some bacteria or another. He brings up the u-word, but Alex is still insistent. He then asks Alex to pee in a cup, and they're fine to go.

They're back in the car, headed back to the townhouse, when Thomas speaks. “Third trimester,” he says simply.

Alex nods his agreement.

“We're very unprepared for this, aren't we?” he asked.

Alex laughed. “I don't think anyone is ever fully prepared for parenthood,” he responded. “At least, that's what the books say.”

“We'll need to prepare a nursery,” Thomas continued. “Also, I've been wanting to talk to you about something.” He wouldn't look at Alex, instead stared out the window. Alex's stomach constricted nervously, waiting for the hammer to drop. “What do you think about moving back to Monticello to have the baby?”

That … wasn't nearly as bad as Alex was expecting from the lead up. Alex blinked, a little taken aback by just how simple of a thing Thomas wanted, before considering carefully. “What about your work?” he asked. “Congress is back in session.”

“Yes, but I won't be doing much there now,” Thomas replied. “I can always work at home, video chatting with my staff. I'll need to be there for a few votes; but D.C. is only about a two-hour drive from Monticello. And I … well, I want my first child to be born in my city, to share a hometown with me. I want him to be born in the same hospital that I was born in. I want his first memories to be of Monticello, not D.C. I'm sorry if that's selfish; I mean, we can definitely spend some time in Nevis if you want … ?”

Alex smiled sweetly at his mate. “You and JJ can send me a postcard,” he responded. “ 'Greetings From God's Underpit'.”

Thomas laughed. “It can't be that bad,” he protested. “Otherwise, no one would vacation there. I mean, you have the beaches.”

“Yes,” Alex agreed. “Then, again, underarms are a common place to find moisture.”

Thomas laughed again. “Fine, fine; no Nevis,” he agreed easily. “But, Monticello?”

Alex thought about it. The townhouse was where he considered home now, but Monticello was where he had fallen in love with his mate. He wouldn't mind falling in love with his first child there. Besides, all that natural beauty would make for a wonderful place to raise a child. “Let's do it.”

* * *

The office that connected to the master bedroom in Monticello was moved down the hall, and the room was converted into a nursery over the next few days. A heavy grill was mounted, instead of just placed, in front of the fireplace. The hardwood floors were left alone, except for the enormous brown-and-green vintage area rug that almost covered the room from wall to wall. A beautiful cherry sleigh crib was placed on the wall adjacent to the one with the fireplace – the wall the room shared with the master bedroom. It had a changing table, with drawers, attached; would convert into a toddler bed and, later, into a full-sized bed and the changing table into a nightstand; and was about the most clever thing Alex had ever seen. A hoop canopy made of some soft green material that Alex had his suspicions was real silk was hung above it.

A local artist that was struggling to work his way out of debt was brought in to paint a stunning pastoral mural of rolling mountains overlooking farmlands and fields, with every woodland creature imaginable, that wrapped around the entire room. Alex was partial to the fox cubs playing in the grass, and thought that the mural would age well as the baby matured; Thomas, who liked the sparrows eating bread crumbs along a stone walkway, agreed.

Gradually, other furniture found its way into the nursery – the dresser made of the same cherry wood as the crib, a rocking chair, a bookshelf.

When Thomas brought home a life-sized stuffed dog in a lying pose and stuck it in the last available corner, Alex proclaimed the nursery finished.

* * *

During the remodel process, Thomas told Maria about the move. And was surprised by the look of hurt that crossed the woman's face.

“So, we'll be moving down for good probably at some point next week,” he wrapped the announcement up.

The other Alpha nodded, then seemed to be thinking about how to word something. “Will you be hiring a local nanny, then?” she finally came out with it.

Thomas blinked, taken aback. “No, of course not!” he said. “Unless you'd prefer to stay local?” The thought that the woman might not make the move with him hadn't occurred to him; she had very quickly become an invaluable member of his staff.

“If you'll still have me, I'll come with you,” she said. “I don't have much here, anyway; and I've been living in omegan housing until I could find a place. I'll just need a little time to find an apartment in … Charlesville, you said the town was called?”

“Charlottesville,” Thomas automatically corrected, stunned for the second time during their very short conversation. Somehow, he'd never thought to ask about the other Alpha's living situation.

“In Charlottesville, then,” she agreed.

“Why are you staying in omegan housing, exactly?” he asked as blandly as possible, so as not to give offense.

“Oh, well ...” Again, she seemed to be thinking through her wording. “I was bonded, I don't know if you knew that? Of course you did; you did a background check. You saw that the bond was ended? Well, it ended … badly. James wasn't … well … James was everything wrong with our endotype, if you know what I'm saying. I needed something fast, and I needed something easy, and omegan housing fits both criteria.” She shrugged, collected façade back in place. “I had been looking for an apartment, but housing in D.C. isn't exactly cheap. So this is actually a very convenient time for me, anyway. I'm sure apartments in Charlottesville are more reasonable.”

Thomas was pretty sure that was the most he had ever heard Maria say at one time in the entire time he'd known her. He was also pretty sure that that fact didn't make him feel very good about himself. _Treat your staff well, and they'll treat you the same_ had been his motto when dealing with the people he hired. The knee-jerk circumstances of Maria's hiring had apparently made him forget that.

“Don't worry about finding a place,” he told her. “You can have one of the guest bedrooms in Monticello.”

She frowned. “Senator, that's quite an imposition,” she protested.

“Not at all,” he reassured her. “I should have thought about it earlier, actually. Especially after JJ is born, it will be more convenient for everybody. Monticello is much nicer than any of the local apartments, and _much_ nicer than the local omegan housing; Charlottesville is a college town, but we're on the opposite side from the city, which is worse than if there was no college at all.”

“The nicer omegan housing buildings do tend to be located in college towns, as close to campus as possible,” she agreed.

“If you want your independence – and I'll think no worse of you if you do! – then there are a few cabins on property I keep reserved for staff; but you're more than welcome to permanently move into a guest room if you'd prefer.”

Which was how Monticello came to lose another of its guest rooms. Maria's room was on the opposite end of the house from the master suite and had an attached bathroom. It was given the same soundproofing treatment as the master suite, in case she decided to bring someone home, or just wanted some privacy. And, as the finishing touches were being applied to the nursery, the redecorating of Maria's room began.

At this rate, Thomas thought to himself, they were going to have to build another addition. And found that he didn't hate the idea of such a full house.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took longer researching what the nursery should look like than actually writing this chapter, lol. You can probably picture most of the descriptions I wrote in the story without help, but just in case, [here's](https://s3.amazonaws.com/homestratosphere/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/8Way-Neutral-Nursery.jpg) the inspiration for the mural, [here's](https://ll-us-i5.wal.co/asr/1e70ea83-cfa4-4818-869c-6efddee28fc5_1.4bd79d46dae1cfe91ab6009fd3c7bc3a.jpeg?odnWidth=537&odnHeight=537&odnBg=ffffff) the inspiration for the crib (and, let me tell you, convertible cribs are the coolest thing ever; [here's](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/55/a0/4d/55a04d63c1c819515470e400ae3cc025.jpg) a similar model by the same company converted to a toddler bed and [here's](http://images.hayneedle.com/mgen/scale:SCM049.jpg) the full bed with the changing table converted to a nightstand). [Here's](http://cdn3.volusion.com/9nxdj.fchy5/v/vspfiles/photos/DG-2459-2.jpg?1456492991) the stuffed dog Thomas brought home -- his name is Sherman, he's 31" long not including the tail, and he's not recommended for children under 2 years of age. Which means that JJ will be climbing on him at 5 months while Maria watches him like a hawk.


	12. The Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drama. Then fluff. Then drama.

It takes them five more weeks to finish up the renovations at Monticello and finish finalizing the move. It feels weird, Alex thinks, to leave his linens and a good bit of personal items behind. Like he's going to get written up by the house manager and subsequently be penalized by the Omegan Housing Administration. Old habits die hard; this isn't omegan housing, the OHA couldn't care less what he does under his Alpha's roof, and Thomas is the only house manager he'll ever have to worry about again.

Which is just as well, because Alex remembers those days of stripping the place bare and cramming as much as he could into a car, and he is very, very glad that he's not being expected to do that here. At 34 weeks, he is huge. He doubted that he'd be able to carry a single box; he didn't have any hands free, as both were busy carrying his stomach.

Thomas loved it, of course. If there was some way to freeze him at this precise moment in his pregnancy, he had a sneaky suspicion that Thomas would do it. He takes every opportunity to rub, kiss, listen to, or make some sort of other contact with it. Alex is not allowed to so much as sit or stand up on his own; Thomas insists on being there to help him up or down, and has Maria under strict orders to do the same if he's not around.

Which is more often than he expected. Although Thomas had been spending a lot of time at home with Alex recently, he was still a senator. And even if, with Washington reelected, nobody was taking things too seriously worrying over what policies an unknown might be wanting to implement, the Senate was definitely still in session. They'd have off a few days here and there next month for Christmas, and Thomas would be home for Thanksgiving next week. But the Omegan Healthcare Act had been put to a vote and failed, and Alex knew that Thomas felt that its failure was due to him slacking off, never mind that he had a very pregnant mate at home.

So he spent many days at the office, and Alex sat on the couch in the townhouse and twiddled his thumbs, knowing that after Thanksgiving he'd be doing the same thing in Monticello.

Which was when he got the phone call.

He was watching the Discovery Channel, half asleep – the baby had kept him up half the night kicking – when his cell phone ringing instantly woke him up. He knew that ringtone. “Sir?” he answered.

“We have a bit of a situation, Son,” Washington's voice came through, unusually tense. “One of the new interns has … well, things have gone all to hell, if you'll pardon my language. The new Secretary is good – Wolcott, I believe you know him? – but he hasn't been on the job long enough to fix things.”

“Don't worry, Sir,” Alex assured the man, already starting to lever himself up. Maria was instantly there to help. “I'm on my way.”

* * *

Washington himself met Alex at the door. "Thank you so much for coming in," he said. Alex's nostrils flared at the stench of desperation coming from the Alpha. He could feel his own blood pressure beginning to rise; Washington was never this tense, so whatever the problem was, it must be serious.

"Of course," he responded, keeping up with the man as well as he could at a fast waddle. He saw Washington side-eyeing his stomach, and felt his face flush in embarrassment.

"It agrees with you, Son," the Alpha said.

Washington was leading him towards the conference area of the Treasury Building. What was so bad that it required so many people, he had no idea.

“Just through here,” Washington said, holding the door for him. Pausing for just a moment, Alex steeled himself for whatever was beyond the door and walked through.

“ _SURPRISE!”_ a chorus of voices greeted him.

Alex physically staggered back, bumping into Washington, who steadied him. “Whaa … ?” he whimpered, stunned.

Teal colored garlands lined the walls of the once-familiar conference room. Teal balloons floated freely around the ceiling. There were flowers everywhere, most of them blue themed. The sideboard had been pushed back and was full of food. The conference table itself had been covered in a blue tablecloth and places set; someone had dragged in the comfy armchair from the break room and set it at the head.

He saw the cake, done in shades of gray and blue, and the  _IT'S A BOY!_ streamer above it, and suddenly realized what this was.

“I can see why you needed my help; this is definitely a problem that only I can fix,” he said, just because every eye in the room was on him and waiting for a reaction of some sort.

The crowd seemed to accept that response. There was a flurry of laughter around the room, and everyone began moving about again.

He was escorted over and placed in the armchair at the head of the table. Thomas was seated beside him. “Is this madness your doing?” he muttered the question to his mate.

“I found out about five minutes before you did,” was the response. “From what I've been able to gather, Lafayette organized the thing.”

Alex looked; and, sure enough, Lafayette was here. In fact, other than the interns he had hired and a few other members of his staff, the vast majority of the people here weren't Treasury employees at all. “How did they get you into the Treasury Building without you suspecting?”

“They told me that they had a notary here with papers I needed to sign regarding your resignation. I don't know the layout of the building well enough to realize I wasn't just walking into another office until the trap had sprung. You?”

“That there was a fire I needed to put out,” Alex responded. For just a moment, it had been nice to have been needed again.

“Have the baby. Rest. Then you can go back to work as Washington's speechwriter.” Thomas knew him so well that at times it felt that he could read his mind.

“It's okay, Dear,” Alex reassured him. “If I was working, who would watch the marathon of _Street Outlaws_ on Discovery every morning?”

Thomas would have responded, except by then the party goers had organized sufficiently to announce the beginning of the first shower game.

They put diapers on baby dolls while blindfolded. They guessed baby food flavors. They did word searches and word scrambles and finished nursery rhymes, and did it all while drinking blue punch and snacking on pretzels and other finger food.

Then Alex opened gifts. Onesies and cute little outfits were in almost every bag – little pant sets in case the baby was an Alpha or beta or gowns in case the baby was an omega. Adorable little sweaters and socks and shoes abounded. There were plenty of practical items, too – diapers and bottles and baby shampoo and baby powder and pacifiers and wipes and blankets. Washington gave them a herringbone wool and leather monogrammed diaper bag that looked like it probably cost entirely too much money to be holding leaky bottles and diaper rash cream. Laf gave them a high-end stroller that probably cost more than the diaper bag, in an attractive blue-and-green leaf print. Burr, who had refused to play any game but the word search, gave them a set of baby monitors, “to see if the baby takes after Hamilton.” Maria had knitted JJ a beautiful beanie and blanket set. Even his bodyguards had gotten them a dishwasher basket, to put bottles and pacifiers in the dishwasher safely.

It might not have been an emergency in the Treasury Department that needed him, but as Alex rode home curled up in Thomas' arms, he felt loved and needed all the same.

* * *

34 weeks. Only six to go. The gifts from the baby shower had been put in the nursery and slowly integrated into day-to-day life.

Was he ready to be a father? Thomas had no idea. He lay in bed, woken by his mate's disturbed sleeping and whimpers of pain as the baby kicked him, and thought about what it would really mean once the baby was born.

Their life would change drastically. No decision could be made without factoring in another little life. JJ would be the most important thing in their lives forever, the thing that their lives revolved around.

Beside him, Alex whimpered again. Sometimes it helped if he rubbed his mate's stomach, helped to settle the baby within. Thomas reached over to do just that, and felt something sticky and wet coat his fingers.

Confused, still half asleep, he turned the light on. And woke up fully when he saw the deep red on his fingertips.

He looked over to see the pool of red staining the sheets in a halo around his mate.

 


	13. The Emergency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which everything goes pear shaped.

Thomas ran his fingers through Alex's hair, listening to him pant, and trying his best to ignore the clammy feel and pale pallor of his skin. The dark circles under his eyes looked almost black, like twin bruises.

“Thomas, I have to get up,” his mate muttered weakly. “Washington is waiting for that report; I have to finish it.”

“Shhh, no you don't Babe,” Thomas reassured the omega yet again. “You have plenty of time, remember? Why don't you rest?” Fighting the confusion didn't help; going along with the delusion seemed to lessen Alex's agitation.

“I have to … have to … what time is it?” Alex asked.

“It's 3:42 in the morning,” Thomas answered truthfully. “Why don't you rest? Washington will be asleep anyway.”

Instead of resting, Alex tried to lever himself up, and cried out in pain at the pull in his abdomen. He allowed Thomas to help him lay back. “Where are we?” he asked his mate. “This isn't my apartment.”

“No, it's Monticello,” Thomas answered. His ears perked up when he heard footsteps coming towards their open bedroom door.

“Monticello?” Alex mumbled. “Why are we in Italy?”

Thomas would have answered, but just then the paramedics entered the room, Maria in tow. He watched as they loaded a weakly-protesting Alex onto the gurney and began to cart him off. Without hesitation, Thomas followed.

Maria stopped him, handing him the diaper bag George had gotten them for some reason. He looked at her, questioning. “As soon as I got it, I packed it as a go bag for the two of you,” she explained. “Plenty of comfy clothes in there for the both of you, fresh underthings, and several blankets with your scent.”

He nodded his thanks, and took off after the gurney.

“Pulse is thready,” one EMT was saying from beside the gurney in the ambulance. Thomas jumped into the back with them, just as one of Alex's bodyguards also forced his way on. The paramedics looked at the man but said nothing.

“Blood pressure is low,” the other paramedic announced from his side of the gurney.

“I'm hooking up an IV,” the first EMT announced, as he did just that. Alex startled at the needle in his skin, and tried to pull it out; the EMT put his hand gently over Alex's, and it stopped the movement.

“Are you the omega's medical guardian?”

It took a moment for the question to penetrate through the fog that seemed to suddenly surround Thomas' head; it took another moment for him to realize that the question was directed at him. “Hmm?” he said, distracted. The needle was so long … “Oh, yes, I'm his mate.”

Erratic and fast beeping began to fill the small space; the other paramedic had hooked Alex up to an EKG.

“Good,” was the answer. “We're almost there. We're taking him to Martha Jefferson; is that okay?”

“Yes, please,” Thomas responded. He hadn't even realized that they had left; but now he was paying attention, he could feel the ambulance slow as it exited the interstate.

“Good, good. How far along is he?”

“Thomas,” Alex muttered from the gurney.

“34 weeks,” Thomas responded, immediately going to Alex's side. “I'm here, Darlin'. We're almost there.”

“Thomas,” Alex called again, becoming agitated.

Thinking fast, Thomas pulled one of the blankets from the bag and laid it across Alex's neck. Alex smelled Thomas' scent on the blanket and immediately calmed.

“Good thinking,” one of the paramedics said.

Thomas didn't answer, just watched them work.

* * *

They wanted to do an ultrasound. It was logical, he knew, just as logical as it was necessary. And Alex was too off his head to understand the explanation as to what was about to happen.

So Thomas gave his consent, then all but laid himself across Alex's chest, blocking his view. Alex whimpered as the gel was smeared over his abdomen.

“Hey, don't worry about that,” Thomas smiled down at his mate, although inside he was imagining what would happen if Alex had a panic attack and trying not to let it freak _him_ out. “Just look at me.”

“Thomas,” the omega agreed, gazing weakly at him.

Behind him, he heard the on-call obstetrician swear at something he saw on the screen.

“We're going to have a baby,” Thomas reminded Alex. “A beautiful baby boy. Remember?”

“JJ,” Alex responded.

“James Peter Jefferson. JJ. So much name for such a tiny little life. But he's growing right now, and we'll meet him soon. Just a few more weeks to go, yeah?”

“34 weeks to go,” Alex agreed. “Six weeks in.”

“That's right,” Thomas agreed, ignoring that he had gotten the numbers mixed up.

“Senator, may I talk with you?” the obstetrician asked. Thomas looked over his shoulder to make sure Alex's abdomen was free of the transducer and back under the sheet before standing up. He tucked the blanket back under Alex's chin before following the doctor off to the side.

“First of all,” the man began, “How long has it been since your mate's last ultrasound?”

“He had one at … 13 weeks,” Thomas responded; had it really been that long ago?

“And he hasn't had one since? Dr. Hosack is one of the best in the field, he really should- never mind, not important now. Do you know what placenta previa is?”

“No, I don't,” Thomas answered, feeling himself stiffen.

“It's where the placenta – you know what the placenta is, right? good – it's where the placenta has grown too low in the womb and covers the cervix. Your mate has _partial_ placenta previa, which means that it only _partially_ covers the cervix. But as your mate's cervix begins to dilate and thin in preparation for birth, the placenta tears and starts to bleed. That's where all the blood is coming from.”

“Can it be fixed?” Thomas asked. “Can the placenta be moved?”

“No; once the placenta has embedded itself into the lining of the uterus, it can't be moved.”

“What happens now?”

“Now, your mate goes in for an emergency C-section” the doctor said. “The bleeding has slowed, but we can't get it to stop. We could give him blood – and probably will need to before this is all over – but he'll just bleed it all out again. At 34 weeks, delivering should be safe and there shouldn't be too much risk of health problems. The lungs are pretty much fully developed, all the organs are in place, everything is ready to go. At 34 weeks, they don't have as much weight on them as we like, and they're more prone to jaundice and the like than a full-term baby, but those are all things that can be corrected easily.”

He looked back at Alex, laying on the gurney still. “I need to talk with my mate,” he said.

The doctor pursed his lips. “Your mate it still unconscious from the shock,” he said. “And, honestly? It's best he remains that way. His body is healing itself; let him rest.”

“But you'll still give him anesthesia, right?”

“Of course; we'll be administering a spinal anesthesia, or a spinal block, which will numb everything below the waist.”

“Can I be in the room for the procedure?”

“You can't be there while we administer the spinal block, and you'll be asked to scrub up; but, yes, you can absolutely be there.”

Thomas looked back at the gurney again, at Alex looking so pale and fragile. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” the doctor repeated, and gestured to a nurse, who began wheeling Alex away. “While the spinal block is administered, why don't you step here into my office for a moment? There are some other circumstances about this birth that I think we need to talk about.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as Google and I can tell, everything here is real medicine. But I'm not a doctor, or nurse, or in the medical field, nor have I had a baby; if anything is wrong, give me a shout and I'll fix it.
> 
> Martha Jefferson Hospital is not only a real hospital, it's where all my siblings and myself as well as my mother were born. They have a beautiful new facility on Pantops Mountain that I swear looks more like a day spa inside than a hospital. It's where you go if you can, especially to have a baby -- with the new facility, all the birthing suites are private. It gets its name because one of the founders is a direct descendant from Martha Jefferson Randolph, Thomas Jefferson's eldest child, and is named in her honor. Most locals refer to it as "Martha Jeff". The only other hospital in the area, the University of Virginia Health System, has slightly better and more up-to-date equipment and such, and in fact consistently rates in the top 50 in the nation in several fields; but it's a teaching hospital, which means that odds are at some point you'll be woken at 3 am by a doctor with a flock of residents in tow to lay there while the doctor quizzes them over your symptoms then wanders off without speaking to you once.


	14. The Afterbirth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking about it, and I'm going to end this fic a little earlier than I thought I would. Real life has started becoming stressful, and I'm lagging farther and farther behind in my ability to post new chapters. It's quickly getting to the point where the stress of writing outweighs the fun, and the next point after that is the part where I start to resent the intrusion, and I _really_ don't want that. So this will be the second to the last chapter; after this, I'll post an epilogue. I like to give you guys more notice than this, so I'm sorry. But it's a good stopping point, and I'll use the time to rest and regroup for the next fic.

He woke slowly, painfully, feeling like someone had set about to beat him up and had been exceptionally thorough about it. He ached, deep in his bones, and wasn't entirely happy about waking. But the bright lights and incessant beeping in his ears pulled him inexorably towards consciousness.

He woke with a weight on his stomach that was oddly comforting. He opened his eyes to see that it was a baby. A naked little baby, looking entirely too tiny to be out in the big world, curled soundly against his naked chest. A blanket had been draped over the both of them, creating a little cocoon of safety and comfort.

He leaned forward, to find that the naked little baby smelled undeniably like Thomas and himself. The naked little baby was _theirs, their_ baby. Had he given birth, then? It made sense that this was a hospital; that would explain the beeping noise and the IV he suddenly noticed coming out of his arm. He didn't remember giving birth; but he supposed that he was sore enough for it to have happened, and most of the soreness was centered around his lower abdomen. Maybe. Just how sore was a mother after birth? Was memory loss typical? They didn't talk about this sort of thing in any of the baby books he had read.

But something was off, something tugging at his mind. He leaned forward to scent the baby again, to find that the child would grow up to be an Alpha, but also that the child was female. That nagged at him, until he remembered JJ – James Peter Jefferson, a male name for a male baby. Because the ultrasound had shown a male baby. Had it been wrong?

Then the blanket was lifted back and Thomas was there, as Thomas had been there since he woke, and Alex realized that somehow he had known that Thomas was there without realizing because he wasn't startled in the least by the hand that caressed his cheek. Instead, he leaned into the palm with a sigh of contentment.

What happened next, however, _was_ startling; a second naked little baby was laid on his chest, beside the first. He immediately leaned forward to scent at this new baby, to find that this child was a little male omega, and that this child was his and Thomas' as well. What was going on?

“Meet your firstborn, James Peter Jefferson,” Thomas told him, pride oozing from every syllable. “And your secondborn, this pretty little lady here.”

The world seemed to come screeching to a halt, before his brain caught up and everything resumed as normal. “Twins?” he asked in a voice that was unexpectedly scratchy.

“Twins,” Thomas confirmed, reaching down to kiss his temple.

No wonder he had gotten so big.

“We're going to need to come up with another name, then,” he said.

“And no whiteboard in sight,” Thomas chuckled.

He smiled at Thomas' joke but largely ignored it as he considered this sudden turn of events a moment. “Good,” he decided. “I want JJ to grow up with siblings. I don't want him to be an only child. He'll be spoiled enough, growing up with money.”

Thomas chuckled again. “We'll be sure not to spoil them too much,” he said. “We'll tell them 'no' every once in awhile.”

Alex looked down, at the two little lives snuggled up on his chest. “Just every once in awhile, though,” he said. “Not too often.”

Thomas reached down to brush at the inexplicably full head of hair on JJ. “Not too often,” he agreed.

* * *

The nurse came in, later, to check on them and show him how to nurse. Then it was back to the NICU to spend some time under the radiant light – and, for JJ, to be treated for his jaundice. “The doctors said that both babies are doing just fine,” Thomas reassured Alex. “They're both breathing well on their own. The NICU is just a precaution.”

The bloodwork came back – apparently, a blood sample had been taken from the umbilical cord of each baby and checked for everything from hypothyroidism to HIV – and everything looked fine.

In the meantime, Alex started moving around cautiously. He went to the bathroom and took a shower, then was ready to get back into bed and admire the postpartum room he had been put it. It was a beautiful room, too – purple walls, wooden floors, a green-purple-gold futon couch under the window for Thomas to sleep on. An empty shelf against the wall that Alex wasn't sure the purpose of. A couple chairs for guests. Two large windows, overlooking the same mountains he had come to love.

At one point, Thomas noticed him admiring the view. He walked over, studied the mountains, and pointed. “That's Montalto,” he announced. “Carter Mountain.”

“Can we see Monticello Mountain from here?” Alex asked him.

“No; the Little Mountain is too small,” he replied almost sheepishly. But Carter Mountain was right beside Monticello, so Alex knew it was in that same area, even if it couldn't be seen.

“Home,” he said, almost involuntarily. It just seemed to slip from his lips.

“Home,” Thomas agreed. “I can't wait to show JJ and our little girl.”

“Our little girl whom we still haven't named,” Alex reminded him.

So they got out a scrap of paper and their cell phones, and did a version of the whiteboard process that they had done for JJ, only condensed. Family names came first, then both men got on their phones and searched Nameberry, BabyNames.com, any website they could think of.

Which was how, by the end of that first day, Elizabeth Rachel Jefferson – Ellie – got her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that you guys probably don't care at this point, but Martha Jefferson is just gorgeous, y'all. And don't take my word for it; in researching for this fic, I found out that it was rated #1 in Soliant's 2012 "Top 20 Most Beautiful Hospitals in the US" -- so it's literally the most beautiful hospital in the country, at least as of 2012. [Here's](https://www.healthdesign.org/sites/default/files/styles/flexslider_full/public/resource-images/mjh_int_03_postpartum_patient_room1.jpg?itok=zHNTLtUn) the postpartum rooms (the rooms mothers go to after giving birth, to spend a few days recovering), and [here's](http://muncasters.weebly.com/uploads/2/6/8/0/26805050/1798096_orig.jpg) a photo someone took of one of those rooms and put on their baby blog a couple years later -- as you can see, that brochure photo isn't lying. Several blogs referred to Martha Jefferson as "Hotel Martha", and you can definitely see why.
> 
> And, yes, that is the view from the hospital. They put it on top of a mountain, literally. Nothing but green on three sides, views of some of the most gorgeous parts of Charlottesville.
> 
> In case anyone wants to know, because I don't know if I'll be able to work it in: Ellie is 5 lbs 7 oz and is completely healthy; JJ is 4 lbs 12 oz and has a mild case of jaundice. Ellie will take more after her mother in coloring and has a little bit of fuzz on her head, while JJ is darker like his father and has a full head of hair.


	15. The Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter!

Over the next few days, they were visited by almost everyone either of them knew. Washington was still in D.C. finalizing his recent reelection, but Martha and Laf came by. Laf brought a stuffed teddy bear so large he could barely get it through the door and immediately trotted over to the bed and asked to see Alex's scar. Martha rolled her eyes at her lover's antics and went over to the bassinets to see the babies instead.

Madison came by with two little stuffed bunnies that rattled, and mainly chatted with Thomas and cooed at the babies before expressing his well wishes with Alex and leaving.

Burr came by on the third day, bringing a bouquet of flowers with a generic message and stayed just long enough to express his combined congratulations and sympathies.

Senator Schuyler-Church came by, whom Alex suspected was still feeling guilty over her unkind words to Thomas when they had just bonded. But she had always struck Alex as the kind of person to demand perfection of herself and stress over even the smallest deviation. She brought a beautiful bouquet and playfully demanded that they take the children to her sister, who had started a pediatric practice in Charlottesville during a doomed romance with Madison.

One by one, several of his bodyguards came in, offering him well-wishes and expressing their gratitude that he had made it through okay.

At one point, even Sybil Ludington came by, with a gorgeous bouquet and a big smile. News had been a bit slow, now that the fervor over the reelection had died down. Especially since Washington's reelection had been such a non-event; the candidate the Republicans had put forward was a bumbling idiot who had spent half his airtime making omegaphobic and xenophobic remarks that had alienated him from all but the farthest right. Out of the 538 electoral votes possible, 270 of which were needed to win, Washington had received 467. Washington winning the vote was old news almost before it had happened, and people wanted more. And since everybody loved cute babies, especially since they had been born to such an attractive couple in such a traditionally acceptable bond, she wanted to do a story for her blog, _The Columbia Star._ Alex changed out of his beloved Coca Cola tee and posed by the window with a baby in each arm, Thomas standing behind him, and said a few sentences about how happy he was to be a parent, then listened to Thomas say the same, until Sybil pronounced herself satisfied and left them with her thanks and another big smile.

Then Washington himself insisted on coming, claiming that it wasn't fair that even Sybil had seen the new babies when he himself, the godfather, hadn't. Alex discreetly shot a look to Thomas and got a subtle headshake, no – Washington had apparently appointed himself the godfather without consulting either parent. Well, they could do worse than the President of the United States. Washington's flowers went on the shelves with all the others – the purpose for the empty shelving unit had become clear very quickly – and he'd insisted on taking a “shelfie” with Alex and the twins. Then had Thomas take a photo on his phone of him holding the babies. Then, later that day, posted the resulting two images on Twitter.

Those photos, coupled with Sybil's article, meant that they were soon trending on Twitter again, under the hashtag #jeffbabies. Which meant that Alex was soon being inundated with tweets on an account that had been very quiet as of late. Some were congratulating him, some were berating him for settling for the typical role society expected of an omega. A few were doing both – congratulating him for realizing that his place as an omega was out of politics and at home, waiting for his Alpha and master with a smile and preferably with a belly full of child. None said anything like that in as many words, of course, but a few came close. He screenshotted the best passive-aggressive omegaphobic propaganda (as well as more than a few unsubtle aggressive rants) and proceeded to tweet them with unflattering captions. It was something he would have done in the pre-Thomas days and made him feel good in a nostalgic way, made the omegan-rights types a little happier about his 'defection', and just kept the whole issue going.

At one point Washington sent him a text, asking him to cut it out. Alex replied that he didn't work for Washington anymore; and as such, the man held no official authority over him. But he did cut back on the sheer number of screenshots he was tweeting, and blunted his remarks a bit.

Then noticed the worried glances Thomas was shooting his way when he didn't think Alex would see. And realized that he had been on his phone for hours, mostly straight-faced, but occasionally breaking into a giggling fit before typing away like mad.

All in all, parenthood was easy. Admire the cute buggers a few times a day, and marvel that such a perfect little person had come from him. Let them latch on and nurse every so often when they fussed, or watch one of the nurses change them or bathe them or otherwise attend to their other needs. Watch _Street Outlaws_ all morning, explaining the plot and characters to Thomas and whichever baby he happened to be holding at the time. Rest and heal and enjoy the time with his suddenly-doubled family.

Why did people say that parenthood was so hard?

* * *

Parenthood was  _hard._

Never mind that they had brought home two preemies that, while not actively sick, were still even more delicate than the average newborn. Never mind that they had to keep an eye on JJ, especially, to make sure that his jaundice was well and truly gone; and both twins in general to make sure they gained weight and weren't any more sickly than normal.

No; even beyond that, suddenly _they_ were doing everything.

Maria helped; it was her job, after all. But no person could be on call all the time. So Maria helped take care of them during the day, and spent the night sleeping soundly while they were woken every couple of hours by one or both infants who needed … well, that was often the question, wasn't it?

But they adapted, and they figured it out; and if Thomas had to sleep in one of the guests rooms before a big hearing so that he could be as awake as possible the next day, or if he had to stay in the townhouse for a couple days, or if he had to stay home and do almost everything when Alex got a nasty cold a week after coming home from the hospital?

Well, they were parents to the two most beautiful children to ever grace the parents. And it was all worth it, in the end.

Even if they had to keep reminding each other of that fact, when they had been woken at 5 am after only a couple hours sleep and were so exhausted they felt like crying themselves.

* * *

Thomas broke the news to Alex a couple days after coming home with the twins.

“After Ellie-bellie here was delivered, you started bleeding heavily. The doctors had a term for it, postpartum hemorrhage or something. They said that it was rare, but things like placental whatever that you had greatly increase the risk.”

“Snowball effect,” Alex commented.

“Exactly: a really big, bloody snowball. Anyway, to stop the bleeding they had to … embolize the artery running to the uterus? I don't know, something like that. They blocked it, is what it means. And they said that it weakened the uterus such that you'll never be able to carry another child to term.”

Alex sank back into the bed with Ellie still suckling happily away and thought about that. Never have another child. _Never_ was a long time. He would need time to come to terms with that, to grieve for the loss of something he didn't even really want. But two children were enough; and it was hard to feel such a loss with two such perfect lives in his arms. They were a family of four – father, mother, son, daughter; the perfect family.

And if he lay awake at night, sometimes, even when Thomas was snoring lightly beside him and the nursery was quiet, thinking about just how long _never_ really was? Well, no one but himself ever needed to know.

* * *

JJ had his father's darker skin, but his mother's silky hair. Even if it was a bit wavier than Alex's own. It also grew at a rate of approximately a foot every week.

Ellie grew up to have her mother's lighter skin, but her father's textured hair. Also, somehow, from some unknown tributary of one of their family's gene pools, she had gotten a healthy scattering of freckles.

Both were devastatingly cute. And it wasn't just their parents who thought so; any photo of either twin to ever be uploaded to any social media sight would immediately take off, even if very few actually went viral.

The photos of the babies trying new foods at their booth in Tip Top Restaurant? Ellie's scrunched up face exploded all over Facebook, and even made its way to _People_ magazine's website.

The image of JJ crawling under the Oval Office desk, while Washington looked on with an expression of annoyance on his face that didn't fool anyone? That one got posted on Tumblr, Buzzfeed, and the White House's official website.

The photos of the twins at the beach house in the Outer Banks that they had rented for a couple weeks? Twitter loved them, especially the one of JJ trying to chew on the sand dollar. (He had just started teething. It was a difficult week.)

The video of Ellie toddling from pumpkin to pumpkin at the pumpkin patch? That one _did_ go viral, especially because at the end she noticed her mother hovering over her with the camera and gave it the biggest grin, proudly displaying the two teeth that had just come in.

The photo of both twins looking up, bright eyes wide, to take in the spectacle of their very first Christmas tree just in time to turn one year old? That one never went viral, because that one never got posted online. That one made its way to the Jefferson family Christmas card, where those who knew and loved the twins got to enjoy it.

* * *

The twins were born December 7th, so Alex's body naturally skipped the heat cycle he'd normally enter in January, as well as the one in April. In fact, it naturally took about a year for his heats to return to their normal intensity.

Or they would have. After the uterine artery embolization, his heats would be much calmer, much milder – assuming he had any at all, which many omegas didn't.

So, when he felt the familiar symptoms of a heat began, and when Thomas suddenly started paying a lot more attention to him? They skipped the suppressants at the doctor's suggestion, to see just how strong the heat would be. After all, Alex couldn't get pregnant; what was the worse that could happen?

Apparently, traumatizing half the staff when Alex got out of the guest room they had designated for heats and took off at a run, with Thomas in hot pursuit. The Alpha caught Alex and slung him over his shoulder, carrying the moaning omega back to their room with one hand fondling his balls. Both men were completely nude.

After the heat wore off, both men apologized profusely to the staff (who, by that time, were more amused than anything else by the entire spectacle) and took to locking the door securely from the outside before the heat began, with the key in a dish by the door, so that staff could enter to deliver food and take away dirty dishes easily but it would take that extra time to find the key and unlock the door from the inside. But they decided not to take suppressants during future heats, enjoying the wild craziness of a heat uncontrolled by medicine. It didn't matter, anyway, because Alex was sterile, so it wasn't like there was any reason to take the suppressants except to temper the symptoms of a heat, right?

* * *

Thirty-six weeks later, George Hamilton Jefferson was born.

His birth was not much smoother than his older siblings', including another case of placenta previa that was caught in time to allow the doctors to schedule a C-section this time, but which led to hemorrhaging bad enough that the doctors were forced to perform a partial hysterectomy. The doctors explained that the uterine artery embolization had destroyed some of the uterus, but enough had survived to allow a fertilized egg to take root and grow. Now, however, with no uterus, there was absolutely no way that Alex could possibly get pregnant again.

They never skipped suppressants again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! What a wild ride!
> 
> This one ended a little quicker, but still ended well I think. As I mentioned last chapter, I'm going to be taking a bit of a break from writing; but I'm certainly not finished with this universe! Look for several one-shots in the future, some steamy some not. (Okay, most steamy, but you know what I mean.)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Washington on Your Side](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15788754) by [SumthinClever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SumthinClever/pseuds/SumthinClever)




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